


Casablanca

by RoseEclipse



Series: Casablanca [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseEclipse/pseuds/RoseEclipse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezra Bridger is captured and then sold through a black market ring to a new "master", who puts him to work in the heart of the Empire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Kyssel Moon, Post-Battlefield_

Kanan Jarrus dashed through the debris of the battle. Charred bits of metal pierced the ground while smoke continue to drift upwards, as if the ground was still hissing from the fight.

The Empire had assaulted a brutal ground attack on this Outer Rim moon. Had the fight taken place in space, the Ghost crew might have had the advantage thanks to Hera's piloting abilities and everyone's teamwork. But despite an effective ground strategy, Commander Sato had ordered a retreat before the entire squad was annihilated.

Kanan's brain replayed the images. A thermal-detonator had landed between him and Ezra and ignited, ripping up the ground between them. He had seen Ezra's body go flying through the air just before the smoke clouds enveloped them, tearing up Kanan's eyes and smothering his lungs.

He had distinctly heard Ezra's eager voice calling back to him: _"I'm fine! Kanan, secure the transmitter tower!"_

It had been almost 24 hours since the battle had ended and Kanan had last seen Ezra. Now the rest of the crew had gathered to exchange updates and offer reassurances. Hera gently placed a hand on Kanan's arm.

"I'm sure Ezra's here somewhere," she tried to comfort him.

"Yeah. Loth-rat's survived worse than this," Zeb added.

It was Sabine who managed to lift Kanan's spirits as she examined the vestiges of battle. "Guys, over there!" She waved a hand and motioned for them to follow her to a pile of broken beams.

Kanan extended a hand. Willing the strength of the Force through his limbs, he channeled his thoughts until the heavy beam began to quiver. The rebel raised his hand upward and the beam lifted itself before landing aside.

Sabine dashed forward and pulled something from the wreckage. Ezra's utility belt and lightsaber were miraculously undamaged. She picked up the belt and extended it to Kanan. The rebel's fingers ran over the smooth metal of the lightsaber.

His friends—no, his _family_ —looked on in silence as a shadow of concern flickered in Kanan's eyes.

"That's a good sign, isn't it?" Sabine asked.

Irregular mechanical burbling interrupted them. Chopper rolled along the ground, gears grumbling whenever his wheels collided with pebbles and debris. A rebel officer in a dusty flight-suit followed Chopper. He saluted to Kanan before speaking.

"Commander Sato sent me, sir. He confirmed that we already combed this area for survivors."

"Did you see a kid out here?" Kanan demanded. "He'd be about fifteen years old. Dark hair, blue eyes. Answers to the name Ezra Bridger."

"Or Jabba the Hutt," Zeb added under his breath.

The rebel officer shook his head. "Sorry but we didn't find anyone with those descriptions." He glanced down at his datapad and keyed in some codes. "I'll send a message to our medical facilities to be on the lookout for him. I'm sure he'll turn up."

Sabine continued to use the scanners in her gloves to search for life when her eyes noticed something on the ground. She bent over and picked it up, careful not to get pricked by the tiny syringe.

Kanan knelt next to her and examined the metal tip. "That doesn't look like a usual stormtrooper weapon," he said at last.

Sabine scanned the metal tip for identification. "It's a tranquilizer dart," she pronounced.

Zeb's bushy eyebrows narrowed. "What do the bucketheads want with tranquilizers? They shook to kill."

"Can I see that?" The officer took the tiny dart from Sabine and squinted. "Uh-oh."

"What do you mean, 'uh oh'?" demanded Hera.

"I was hoping those vultures wouldn't go swarming in after battlefields in this part of the Outer Rim. But they've gotten pretty hungry in their line of work…"

Kanan resisted the urge to seize the man by the lapels. Willing himself to use his training background, he straighten his spine and walked straight up to the man. The newcomer saw the glint of wrath in those cool green eyes and a prickle of fear formed in his stomach.

Kanan's voice was soft and ominous when he spoke. "What are you talking about?"

The man waved his hands madly in the air. "Couple of bandit gangs like to pick through battlefields and sell off survivors. The damaged ones get mended in a hurry and sold off to spice mines for a quick profit. The good-looking ones…" his voice trailed off.

"What?" Kanan rasped.

"Fifteen years old….black market high demand….. nice-looking kids…" the man admitted weakly.

Silence swirled into the smoke and ashes around them. Kanan stood tall and immobilized as his fingers curled into a tight fist. The members of his crew did not have to be Force masters to sense the waves of anger rolling off of him.

He whirled around and drove his foot into a cracked beam that tumbled to the ground in a thundering _CRASH!_ Chopper zipped behind Zeb for cover.

Hera tried to keep her voice firm and controlled. But even she could feel her throat tightening up as she spoke. "We'll broaden our search."

Kanan turned to her with a hardened face but he nodded slowly.

"Zeb and I will cross-reference our contacts on the Ghost," Sabine suggested. She was prodded in the shoulder by Zeb who jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"We'd better give 'em a moment alone," he said. Sabine nodded. The Lasat and the Mandalorian headed back to the ship with Chopper trailing behind them. Once inside the Ghost, Sabine pulled off her helmet and began to scrub unshed tears from her eyes.

"I hope he's okay," she whispered fearfully.

"Worrying isn't gonna help Ezra," Zeb said. "We don't know for sure if the black market's got 'im anyway. And he's a smart kid. Got by on his own for years before he met us."

Sabine smiled weakly but her eyes revealed fear. "Yeah, but that was on his home world".

Hera remained beside Kanan on the battlefield. One part of her wanted to reach out with both arms and embrace him. But another part sensed his inner turmoil, warning Hera that the Jedi was wrestling with his emotions and had to maintain control of himself before he could proceed.

Kanan closed his eyes and drew in a breath. Wrath brewed in his stomach. The anger was subdued but not fully gone.

Master Depa Billaba had not chastised her apprentice for experiencing fear or anger. After all, Caleb Dume had come of age on the Clone Wars' battlefield, surrounded by bloodshed and terror. But how one dealt with those emotions just as was necessary for survival.

" _Your emotions are a part of you but they do not dominate your existence_ ," Master Billaba had taught him. _"Learning to accept and then control them is part of your training. Be mindful of it, young padawan. The Dark Side enslaves a man with his own passions."_

The Dark Side. Kanan was no stranger to the risks that lurked in that seductive encompassing power. He had chosen to accept his own limits and failures rather than be lured by arrogance.

But now he saw Ezra's face in his mind, the eager smile and the bright blue eyes, and instantly the Force flared up within Kanan. It was agonizing; the thought of his comrade falling into the greedy thieving hands of the darkest souls of the galaxy, of being physically and emotionally abused before they discarded him like a piece of trash.

Oh, the Empire could lock up Ezra and use their gadgets to poke and prod at him while saying it was for "the peace and order" of their government. The thieves and bandits of the universe had no such use for superficial codes. They would devour Ezra alive.

Kanan Jarrus had witnessed too many cruelties in the galaxy to be optimistic. He knew that some things could be broken beyond repair.

He rejoined the crew on the Ghost and after confirming their next destination, went into his room to meditate. Gathering the simmering thoughts in his head, he let them swirl around and then channeled his energies outward.

The bond between master and apprentice was strong and he would use it to find his prodigy. Kanan's connection to the Force skimmed through the galaxy like a shooting star.

" _Ezra,"_ Kanan thought. _"Ezra, we are going to find you."_

A-A-A

_Kanan_

Ezra tried to pry his eyes opens with his fingers but found it difficult. The magnetic-cuffs kept his wrists shackled tightly in his lap. His skin was clammy and he shivered in the damp room. How long had he been like this?

He had been aware of the agonizing pain, of being torn from Kanan in the blast, and then falling unconscious into the mud. Strong hands had lifted him up but instead of waking up to the clean warmth of a Rebel medical bay, he sensed dinginess and darkness.

The hands had roughly patched up his wounds and then there was a painful prick on his arm. He had succumbed to a drug-induced sleep. Now he struggled to use his voice, which felt sore after hours of silence.

"Ka..nan..."

"Which one, my dears? Look at the teeth in this one, white as pearls! And hasn't he got the nicest hands?"

Ezra's vision slowly began to slide into focus and he was aware of two figures uncuffing someone from the ground. The prisoner started to struggle but one of them pressed something into his arm and the prisoner's body went slack.

 _No,_ Ezra thought in horror. His mind was starting to work again and fear was suppressing the power of the drugs flowing through his system. He could smell rancid pipes and hear echoes bouncing off the walls of the warehouse.

A hairy hand brushed over his cheek, causing his insides to squirm in disgust. A hungry rasping voice spoke up. "This one looks interesting. But remember, I don't care for damaged goods.

Two people snickered behind him. "Whatever you say, Zu Massi. If you don't like this one then we've got a pair of blondes in this corner."

The one named Zu leaned against Ezra again and he nearly gagged from the foul smoky breath in his face. Danger hummed through Ezra's body and he instinctively thrust his hands up.

"NO!"

The Force burst from Ezra's fingertips in an invisible wave of power. It slammed into Zu, sending him skidding back across the floor. He clutched his chest and gasped for air. "What-what was that?" he glared at one of the slavers.

"Must've been a short-circuit in the power cuff," one muttered.

"Forget the kid. What about the blondes?" asked the other.

"Damn the blondes! Damn you dirt-scratchers!" Zu snarled. He rose to his feet and stomped out of the warehouse. The door banged behind him.

"Great. This one's getting to be more trouble than I thought," the first slaver grumbled. He moved towards Ezra with a syringe in hand. The wicked-looking needle glinted beneath the single spotlight.

"Won't…let..you…." Ezra hissed between his teeth.

"Hold him down before he pulls another magic trick," the slaver warned. His partner seized Ezra by the wrists and then yanked them over his head. Ezra struggled in place, willing himself to summon another attack, but he had already exhausted himself from the last struggle. The bite of the needle sank into his arm and his mind clouded over. The darkness pulled Ezra unwillingly into nothingness.

Ezra awoke what felt like weeks later. His limbs ached from sitting still and his tongue felt dry and heavy in his mouth. The slavers were still nearby, speaking in hushed frantic voices.

"...can't keep injecting him every hour. Y'know what Zu said about 'damaged goods'."

"Think the Pleasure House in 45th district will take him?"

"Maybe. Let's see if Bossy Bluehead delivers. The 45th district is a long way from here."

Someone blocked the spotlight, shielding Ezra from the slavers' attention. A sweet citrus aroma wafted over him. And then fingers were touching his chin, gently but firmly, maneuvering his head from side to side. Unlike Zu, the newcomer examined Ezra with professionalism.

He squinted to get a better look. The unique tint of her skin oddly reminded him of Hera and there was no mistaking the twin lekku trailing down her back. But this one was immaculately dressed in a business suit and had a voice that was cool and efficient as a newly-minted protocol droid.

"I don't like the scars," she said in a condescending tone. Silver earrings tinkled softly in agreement.

"They're part of his charm!" explained the slaver. "Besides, the rest of him is in excellent health. He has all of his teeth and no cumbersome cybernetic limbs."

The woman's focus swiftly shifted from the slaver back to Ezra. "Look at me," she demanded. Ezra instinctively did so and found himself looking into ice-blue eyes rimmed with black kohl. Instantly he thought of Hera and felt a stab of longing in his chest.

"Remarkable color," she murmured aloud. The Twi'lek released the grip on his chin and rose to her feet. She paused to smooth out a wrinkle in her skirt. "Sixty five is my proposal."

"Sixty five!" shouted the dealer. "With those eyes he's at least a hundred!"

"I'm sure he's worth every credit if you keep drugging him" she replied dryly. "I'm surprised his brain is still intact."

"And I'm certain the whorehouse up the street from your little nightclub will be very happy to have him instead," the dealer sneered.

"I'm sure they will," she said carelessly. "In the meantime I'll look elsewhere to do business."

The dealer wrung hands in frustration. "Fine! Fine! Eighty five is my final offer!"

The Twi'lek nodded in approval. She removed a stack of credits from a leather pocketbook and placed them into the dealer's hands. He snapped a thin metal band around Ezra's left wrist before removing the magnetic-cuffs.

"Good riddance you filthy scruff-louse," he hissed in Ezra's ear. Ezra was yanked to his feet and nearly shoved against the Twi'lek. His knees wobbled beneath him. Ezra drew in a deep breath as energy started to flow back through his veins.

"There's been a mistake," be blurted out. "I'm not a slave! I've got friends looking for me—"

"—and I'm sure they'll pay handsomely if they are your friends," she remarked. "In the meantime, consider yourself a full-time employee of the Jewel Garden."

"I'm not working for anyone!" Ezra exclaimed.

"Correct. Now you work for me." She held up her datapad. "That cuff on your wrist is linked to my records and accounts. If you try to leave the planet then the Imperial Security Bureau gets contacted and brings you back kicking and screaming."

Veins of energy roiled within Ezra, pushing the drugs away from his mind. His brain began to swim with options. He was smart, he could find a way out of this...right?

_Focus. Concentrate._

Kanan's voice echoed in Ezra's ears, instantly calming his thoughts. He had no idea where he was. He had no contacts, weapons, or money. He was lucky to have gotten out of the hands of those slavers and they had mentioned a 'pleasure house' nearby. If he fell into the wrong hands again—no, he couldn't let that happen again.

 _I've got to play it cool_ , he told himself. _At least until I know where I am and what I've gotten myself into._

He quietly followed the Twi'lek out of the warehouse and into daylight. Fresh breath filled Ezra's lungs as he examined his new master.

She may have been of the same species but there was little resemblance to Hera. The woman's skin was a deep rich blue; the color of Lothal's sky on a hot summer day. Silk gray trousers outlined long elegant legs while a matching jacket hugged the tall slender body. A lavender scarf trimmed with glass beads was wrapped around her head.

If the sight of a sapphire-colored Twi'lek was enough to stun Ezra then he was nearly knocked over from the city sprawled out before him. A labyrinth of walkways was spread out beneath Ezra's feet and skyscrapers glistened in the twin morning suns. Holographic images played Imperial news across towers while red and black banners of the Empire's crest hung from _everywhere_.

"Where are we?" Ezra blurted out.

"Iolanthe," replied the Twi'lek. The word rolled off her tongue like a sip of fine wine. _Eye-oh-lahn-thee._

Iolanthe. This was a core planet and one of the first stronghold operations of the Empire. Ezra was _definitely_ in deep waters.

A speedster was parked outside the warehouse and being guarded by a broad-chested man in a brown tunic and work pants. Coming closer, Ezra couldn't tear his eyes away from him. The man's skin resembled semi-melted wax that had hardened before taking proper shape. Bumps and grooves of multiple scars ran down the man's neck and into his shirt.

If the man was annoyed by Ezra's stares then he didn't show it and merely responded by examining Ezra in return. "This is him?" he asked the Twi'lek.

"This is him." The Twi'lek settled herself into the front of the speedster and motioned for Ezra to sit in the back. Seeing his hesitation she added, "It's a long walk to the club".

"How do I know this 'club' of yours isn't like those warehouse creeps?" Ezra demanded.

"It isn't," she said. "You have my word."

"That's not reassuring."

"The boss always keeps her word." The man grunted impatiently. "Now get in."

For a moment, Ezra contemplated running in the opposite direction. Then the chill of the metal cuff on his wrist reminded him of his situation. He reluctantly slid into the other seat.

"Take us home, Hogarth."

"You got it boss," the man said in a gravelly tone. The ignition roared to life and the speedster took off. Shining white buildings and endless roads skimmed beneath Ezra's feet as wind whipped though his air.

A-A-A

_Iolanthe, 22nd District_

The building was situated between two official government structures and instead of sleek paneling on the outside, boasted twin doors carved of rich brown wood. The sign overhead read _The Jewel Garden_ in Basic gold lettering and four leafy potted plants decorated the doorpost. The two stormtroopers guarding the door looked out of place.

The Twi'lek gave them a cool nod and walked inside, followed by Hogarth and Ezra. The soldiers didn't even give Ezra a second glance as he crossed the threshold and walked down a corridor. The hallway soon opened up into a large room that caused Ezra to stop in his tracks.

He had never seen such elegance before in his life. The floor was marbled white and gold beneath thick velvet carpets. Silk drapes were pulled back from tall arched windows, letting the late afternoon sunlight spray out onto the floor in pink and yellow beams. Frosted glass tables and cushioned chairs sat in half-arcs around a small raised stage. A tiny maintenance droid made soft humming sounds as it pushed itself back and forth along the floor.

The room was empty except for two other Twi'leks. One had a pale blue complexion and was sitting in a corner playing a zephyr-harp. The other had skin the color of emeralds and was filling a vase with flowers while singing cheerfully to herself. She looked up from her work when everyone walked inside.

"Tamar!" chirped the green Twi'lek. She set down the flowers and rushed towards them. "How was town?"

"Same as always," replied Tamar. She sat down in a chair and removed her shoes. "This is our new busboy," she gestured to Ezra. "Make sure he's cleaned up and ready for tonight, Nava."

Nava clasped her hands together and examined Ezra. Her face was all dimples and cheekbones with golden eyes that twinkled with optimism. "He's so handsome!" she exclaimed.

The Twi'lek of the wintry blue skin approached too. She was even taller than Tamar and had an air of graveness about her. "He has interesting eyes. I think he will learn quickly."

" _He_ has a name." Ezra finally found his voice.

"Which is?" Tamar demanded. He bit his tongue. Iolanthe was no place for Ezra Bridger. But Tamar appeared to be no fool and would likely laugh in the face of "Jabba the Hutt".

 _"To know someone's name is to know their essence; to be able to control them,"_ Kanan had taught Ezra. As a Loth-rat he was used to pulling up various names to suit his needs but for his master, a hidden Jedi, names were a matter of life and death. The Empire was well-aware of this power too. They had stripped soldiers of their names and heritages and replaced them with indistinguishable codes to make them compliant.

Seeing Tamar patiently waiting for his response, Ezra decided that he wouldn't give her the full satisfaction of owning his identity.

"If you don't have a name then the boss will give you one," Hogarth warned him.

"Kay," Ezra heard himself say. "My name is Kay."

"Welcome to the Jewel Garden, Kay," said Nava cheerily.

A-A-A

The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirlwind. Ezra was whisked away up a flight of steps and into a refresher where he gratefully scoured his body of sweat and grime. He made generous use of the brightly-colored soaps heaped in glass jars to lather up his hair and even scrubbed vigorously behind his ears; something his mother had always chastised him for neglecting.

"You look better already," smiled the pale-blue Twi'lek. She had given him a white cotton robe to wear after he had dried off and carefully mended his cuts and bruises. Then she handed Ezra a bowl of soup. He slurped it down hungrily, teeth tearing on the chunks of meat and vegetables.

Ezra stopped halfway through long enough to wipe his mouth with the back of his wrist. "I didn't get your name".

"Miri." Her voice was soft and even as a bell's chime when she spoke.

Ezra was about to ask Miri another question when Nava dropped a stack of clothes in his lap. "Suit up, Kay."

"Are you serious?" He looked at them in disgust. The clothes reminded him too much of an Imperial cadet uniform; dark blue creased pants and a close-fitted gray jacket with an upturned collar.

"If you don't cooperate then the boss will get mad," warned Miri.

Nava batted her eyelashes playfully at Ezra. "Do you want some help getting dressed, Kay? I don't mind."

When she unexpectedly reached a hand out to Ezra's chest, he jumped back. "No! Okay, fine! I'll get dressed by myself!"

He snatched the clothes and shut the screen, fully aware of Nava's soft giggling in the other room. Sure enough, he felt stiff inside the clothes and immediately began fidgeting with the collar when he came out.

Then Nava dumped gel into his hair. He protested, he squirmed, but she successfully combed it back and slicked if off his forehead. A tin of makeup followed and he was _so close_ to make it go flying out of her hands. Nava just dabbed enough of something flesh-colored onto his cheekbone to hide the parallel scars on his face. (If only she knew that he had gotten those badges of honor fighting the Grand Inquisitor!)

When Nava took out a gold earring Ezra knew this was the last straw.

"Relax, Kay. It's a clip-on. Besides, if you don't cooperate-"

"I know, I know," he grumbled. "The boss will get mad."

Nava grinned. "I knew you'd catch on. Now hold still." Ezra scowled but did as he was told. There was a soft pinch on his right earlobe and then it was over.

The screen door slid open with a _wooosh_. Tamar stepped into the room and without a word, motioned for Ezra to turn around. He reluctantly stood in front of the three-way mirror.

He was startled by the slim teen in the gray jacket scrutinizing him. With his hair slicked back from his face and the thin gold hoop glinting in his right ear, Ezra felt conscience of himself. But Ezra Bridger wasn't staring back. That young man had been covered up along with his twin scars. Kay of the Jewel Garden was examining the sharp young man in the mirror.

Instinctively his shoulders squared back and his spine straightened.

Nava and Miri smiled in approval while Tamar merely nodded.

A-A-A

 _Three Twi'leks, a scarred-up human, and a Padawan-in-hiding walk into a bar,_ Ezra thought. It sounded like the start of a bad joke.

Nightfall appeared on Iolanthe and dozens of guests were filling up the club. Dressed in a deep green gown and white gloves, Tamar was greeting them at the door and directing them to tables. Ezra noticed that half the crowd wore the subdued black and gray uniforms of Imperial officers while the other half boasted the elaborate and expensive wardrobes of politicians, businessmen, and high-ranking ladies.

He stood in a corner with his hands clasped behind his back and his ears cocked attentively. If he was careful, he might be able to eavesdrop in on some Imperial information that could be useful to the Rebel Alliance.

"Ah, my dear Tamar!" boomed a robust voice. A barrel-chested Imperial officer with a head of silvery hair and a beaming smile strode across the room to her. The officer brought her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it. "You have never looked lovelier".

"You are too kind Commander Lin." She smiled graciously at him. "And your tan suits you well. I take it your stay on Naboo was a pleasant one?"

"Pleasant as one can be on business," he admitted, releasing her hand. "But traveling can be so tedious! Naboo certainly has its gifts but none of its theaters are as charming as your dear little club."

"Then my 'dear little club' will see to it that your return home is well-celebrated." Tamar waved a hand to Hogarth. "A bottle of our best Correllian champagne for the Commander."

Hogarth uncorked the bottle and filled a tray of glasses. "Take this to the Commander's table," he ordered Ezra. The Padawan did as he was told and carefully carried it over to where Commander Lin was talking enthusiastically to several other guests, including two nearly-identical Imperial officers with brown hair.

"Sir, we have completed our prototypes and are awaiting your approval," one began.

"Later, later," he declared impatiently. "Your beacon devices won't be in full production for a while. For now, I insist that you brilliant young scientists enjoy yourselves this evening." The commander brightened up when Ezra set down the drinks.

Ezra noticed an affluent-looking diplomat at the opposite end of the table. He made sure to walk around and carefully set down the man's drink before slowly straightening up. In a single smooth stroke, Ezra's fingers pilfered the man's jeweled badge from his lapel.

"Thank you, young man," said the diplomat. The brown-haired Imperial officers gave no such thanks and merely sipped their drinks. Ezra nodded in obedience and left the table, badge curled tightly in his fingers. Hope rose up in him. If he could pawn the badge for credits, maybe he could buy his freedom from Tamar or hire someone to help him escape.

He had just returned the tray to Hogarth when Tamar appeared at the bar. "Kay, come to my office right now."

"But I haven't finished the drinks," he said.

"Now," she insisted.

Hogarth shrugged at Ezra, who followed Tamar down the hallway and into well-lit room. She shut the door and leaned against the desk. Tamar picked up a slim metal rod and tapped it twice on the floor.

"Give it back," she demanded.

Ezra widened his eyes innocently. "What?"

Tamar's hand lashed out. _WHACK!_ The metal rod cracked Ezra on his backside. He staggered back, breath knocked out of him, too stunned to respond. Then the flare of pain hit his skin.

"Kriff! Are you crazy!?" he shouted.

Tamar snatched his chin in her fingers, nails digging into his skin. Her eyes hardened into chips of ice.

"No, Kay. You are the crazy one to use cheap parlor tricks in my club," she hissed. "Unless you want Imperial officers to shut it down and send us all to slave labor camps and whorehouses then you will return Governor Hawthorne's badge. _Now_."

Tamar shoved Ezra back against the wall. His knees were shaking and his heart was banging back and forth against his rib cage. She had _smacked_ him. He could never recall his mother hitting him like that. Oh, he had gotten a small slap on the wrist once in a while, but never anything humiliating as this. And no matter how frustrating missions or training became, Kanan hadn't dared as lift a finger to Ezra.

She had replaced her mask of the ideal hostess and was reapplying makeup in the mirror. "Go wash your face," she ordered him. "You look like a terrified toddler."

Ezra put a hand to his face and was astonished to find it wet with tears. He bolted from the room, feeling sick, confused, and hurt all at once. He made it to the refresher and instantly splashed cold water on his face. He _hated_ this place, he hated Tamar and her nasty demands and having to pander to Imperial officers.

Ezra banged a fist against the sink. " _Karabast_!" he cursed.

"You can't afford to get cocky here," Hogarth spoke up. He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. Ezra realized that the lights in the bar were much softer. They hid most of Hogarth's scars.

"I, I just didn't think it would matter," Ezra heard himself say.

"Everything matters," Hogarth said. He handed Ezra a towel, who accepted gratefully and scrubbed at his face. "I know, I know. Tamar isn't an easy person to work for. But I'd rather be under this roof then have the heels of the Empire on my neck."

Tamar's threats swirled around in Ezra's head. _"Unless you want Imperial officers to shut it down and send us all off to slave labor camps and whorehouses…"_

When Ezra was fully composed he returned to the table. Everyone had risen from their seats and Governor Hawthorne appeared to be examining around his chair for something. Ezra lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

"Pardon my intrusion, Governor," he said in his smoothest voice. "I found this on the ground. It must have fallen off and gotten kicked across the room". He handed the badge to the diplomat who beamed with delight.

"Thank goodness! And here I was so worried that I had lost it." The governor pinned his badge back on and nodded to Ezra. "Tamar is fortunate to have such a dedicated staff." The Governor removed a credit piece from his pocket and extended it to Ezra, who accepted eagerly.

"Oh yes. She's fortunate all right," Ezra chimed in, slipping the credit into his pocket.

"I must agree with you, Governor. This fine young man knows how to show proper respect," replied Commander Lin.

Ezra felt the charade improving and managed a little bow. "It is my honor to serve." The lie rolled off his tongue smoothly as he helped the officers into their coats. And much to his surprise, Commander Lin handed him a credit piece as well.

"For your service to the Empire," he announced proudly.

" _Not a bad joke after all,"_ Ezra grinned to himself. The rest of the night past swiftly in a blur of music and drinks. While Ezra was kept busy going from table to table, his ears tuned in to the sound of Miri playing the zephyr-harp on the stage. Nava accompanied her on a double-reed flute. The music send soft shivers down his spine and made him think of the wind blowing through the tall grass of Lothal.

_Lothal. Ghost. Space. Kanan. Everyone. Family._

When the last guest had finally left and every bottle of Correllian wine emptied, Ezra sat down in an empty seat and fingered his money. His joy was cut short when Tamar sat down across the table from him.

"Money on the table," she demanded. It took every ounce of self-control for Ezra not to throw the credits in her face but he gritted his teeth and did as he was told.

Tamar removed the credit that Governor Hawthorne had given Ezra. Then she placed a finger upon the credit from Commander Lin and slid it back across the table to him. "You earned that one," Tamar explained.

He eyed the money and then Tamar warily. ""Are you going to hit me again?" he asked.

"Have you done anything to deserve punishment?" Tamar responded.

"I don't think so."

"Then you have your answer, Kay."

Ezra quickly picked up the credit piece before she could change her mind.

 A-A-A

 Author's notes:

Iolanthe is Greek for "violet" and inspired by the Gilbert and Sullivan opera of the same name.

The Twi'leks all have Hebrew-based names. Tamar is "date tree", Nava is "beauty", and Miri is "bitter". Fans of Star Wars Rebels will notice its similarity to the name of Ezra's mother, Mirah. Miriam is another name based on the same word. Hogarth's name was inspired by the hero from The Iron Giant.


	2. Chapter 2

_Prelude:_

"He found whole figures which represented a written word; but he never could manage to represent just the word he wanted. That word was ' _eternity_ '. The Snow Queen had said, 'If you can discover that figure, you shall be your own master, and I will make you a present of the whole world and a pair of new skates'. But he could not find it out."

– _The Snow Queen_ by Hans Christian Andersen

A-A-A

_Saphar System, Rebellion Outpost_

"Your request for a leave of absence from the fleet has been granted," Commander Sato said to Hera. "We will be on the lookout in this sector. Contact us when you have an update."

Seeing the weariness and worry in her eyes he added, "Ezra Bridger is a strong and resourceful young man. I am certain that you will find him soon enough."

"Thank you, Commander." Hera's dedication to the Rebellion was paramount but her concern for Ezra multiplied with each passing day. It was painfully difficult to focus on missions, let alone navigate the Ghost, with his unknown fate hanging over their heads.

Hera's mind flitted back to upstart thief they had encountered on Lothal who flaunted his self-reliance in their faces. It had only taken a few inspirational words to spark the empathy inside of Ezra that he had all along. From that spark came a beautiful light, loyal and caring, shining from Ezra as he threw himself into the ongoing mission to save the galaxy. He had proven himself and Hera was never as proud of him as when he was by their side or when learning with Kanan.

Ezra had unknowingly awakened something in Kanan. The man formerly known as Caleb Dume had spent years of evading the Empire and shunning his gifts. But recently, the stardust whispers of his Jedi training were returning to him. Hera had noticed the gradual change as Kanan watched over Ezra's progress and the boy wasn't the only one getting stronger. Day after day, the former smuggler was slowly transforming into one the guardians of lore: a wise and courageous leader materializing before her eyes. As two blades sharpened one another, both master and apprentice were flourishing in their new bond.

Hera was grateful to Ezra for coming into their lives and for what he had done for Kanan. They all would be together again someday. She would be sure of that.

She extended a salute to Commander Sato and he responded in return.

"Good luck, Captain Syndulla. May the Force be with you."

A-A-A

_Iolanthe_

"How could Duchess Keiko walk around in those crazy shoes? They looked like torture instruments!" Ezra insisted.

"Commander Lin was just as surprised. Speaking of torture, why does he puts up with those two pests from the Science Department?" Nava put in.

"Their fathers were technicians during the Clone Wars," Miri explained. "They have skill but not status. Officers Cato and Boller are desperate to advance up the social ladder quickly."

Ezra's ears pricked up. "Do you know what they've been working on?"

"If _I_ did, it would bore me to death," Nava declared. She heaped several tablespoons of cream into a bowl of porridge and then poured in a river of honey.

"Woah! Not so much!" Ezra begged. She happily handed him the bowl. Nava enjoyed fussing over "Kay" and pampered him as much as Tamar permitted, making sure he got a generous serving at every meal and that his uniform was freshly-pressed every night. Sometimes her attentions were almost cloying but Ezra didn't want to hurt her feelings.

He took the bowl from her and made sure to say, "Thank you" before digging in. "That's the first time I've seen Baron Falstaff's daughter with him at the club. She's very pretty," Ezra added.

Miri and Hogarth exchanged glances. "That wasn't his daughter," Hogarth finally said.

"His wife?"

"No."

"You mean..." Ezra's eyes got big. "Oh!"

Nava winked at him. "What goes on in the Garden stays in the Garden."

"Speaking of the club," announced Tamar. High heels clicked attentively when she strode into the room, datapad in hand. Everyone straightened up for the debriefing.

"Duchess Keiko praised your dancing last night, Nava. But now she requested that you incorporate, as I quote, 'more splendor and less sensuality' into your performance. Do you think you can do it?"

"Sure, boss." Nava sipped from her cup of kaff.

Tamar turned to Miri and Hogarth. "Grand Moff Tarkin is postponing his visit to Iolanthe until next season so we should serve up the Amber Brandy to Commander Lin. Make sure he knows it's to congratulate him on the Mandalorian campaign."

They nodded in silent agreement. "Kay, we'll be entertaining two new Senators and their wives. Reserve the blue-velvet seats in the back for maximum privacy and put extra flowers on the table."

"Yes ma'am."

"All right everyone." Tamar clapped her hands together. "Finish up breakfast and then get to work."

It had been seven whirlwind days for Ezra and he was learning fast about running the Jewel Garden.

Because the club hours extended far into the night, Tamar let everyone sleep in until late morning so that they could get a full rotation's rest. By the time Ezra woke up, most civilians on Iolanthe were already up and off to work. He would join Nava, Miri, and Hogarth for a leisure breakfast of hot porridge or fresh bread from the local bakery.

But once breakfast was over, dutiful preparations began under Tamar's watchful eye. The maintenance droid buffed the floors until Tamar could see her reflection in the tiles. Ezra helped Hogarth repair any chips in the furniture or tend to wine stains in the tablecloths. Miri and Nava adjusted the lighting and set out bowls of fresh flowers.

An hour before the club officially opened, six stormtroopers would arrive with security equipment to scan the building for hidden bombs or concealed weapons. Then they would take positions outside the club entrance and remain there the entire evening, scanning every guests for proper identification. An officer from the Ministry of Media and Broadcasting would arrive to examine the evening's program and confirm that the entertainment was compatible with the Empire's standards.

Ezra knew how vigilante the Empire was about regulation but these orders seemed extreme to the point of paranoid. But every night as the club filled up with guests, he recognized the Empire's desire to protect its most powerful and wealthy citizens.

It also explained why prices were so high on Iolanthe. Everything from food and real estate to power cells and cable wires was at least four times as much as they were on Lothal. Ezra realized that he'd have to save up his credits if he was going to get off-planet. He had decided that his best option for now was to send out a low-frequency transmission that could bypass any Imperial security programs. Having run several errands for Tamar in town, Ezra had located a communications hub where he could send out a message.

For now he'd have to earn as many credits as possible.

So Kay the busboy was exceedingly polite to the guests of the Jewel Garden, especially Imperial officers, and was always on hand to bring another chilled bottle of Kronos cordial to the table or suggest a suitable piece of music for Miri to play. The customers were delighted and presented Ezra with tips while Tamar smiled in quiet satisfaction with Kay's progress.

Ezra was careful not to do anything to vex Tamar and aware that her shrewd eyes could be watching him any minute. Force knew if she ever slept because every time Ezra passed her office, the lights were on. And though Tamar sustained herself mostly on kaff and bread, she never showed signs of fatigue and always looked vibrant and healthy as the club doors swung open each night.

Hogarth, Nava, and Miri treated Ezra well enough but he knew they couldn't replace his family aboard the Ghost.

He missed Hera's courageous voice over the comm as she sailed the Ghost through terrifying space battles; the same voice became empathetic whenever Ezra needed to talk to someone. He _definitely_ missed Sabine and hoped that some smooth-talking Rebel hadn't won her over with flattery. Zeb had joked that he wouldn't mind having his bunk-room back but Ezra suspected the Lasat would quickly become bored without him. Even Chopper's annoying pranks and quips, yes, those were absent in Ezra's life.

The absence of his master weighed heavily on Ezra's mind. Kanan Jarrus was a fascinating paradox; a daring Rebel fighter yet also insightful Jedi. Ezra was constantly fascinated as he watched Kanan assemble a battle strategy or delve into the vast secrets of the Force.

Even in times of great frustration, Kanan didn't lash out at Ezra or say something to degrade or embarrass him. Ezra was his student yet he was treated like a peer and not an an annoying child with too many questions on hand. Kanan would encourage Ezra to speak his mind and together, they would confide in one another until the conflict was resolved. Those moments inspired gratitude in Ezra as well as hope; the hope that someday he would make Kanan proud.

Being unable to use the Force was another challenge. At times Ezra could feel it coursing through his veins but with nothing to channel it outward, it remained bottled up and made his skin itch with impatience.

Meditation saved him. In the past, Ezra had wondered how Kanan could just _sit_ for an hour and let the Force do, well, whatever it was expected to do when he himself had little patience for more than a few minutes of meditation. But now when he had a break from his duties, Ezra would go to the back room where he slept and sit down on his cot. He would listen to the sound of his breathing and slowly recite the mantra he had been taught:

_There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge_

_There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there harmony._

_There is no death, there is the Force._

Slowly and steadily, the meditation unfolded for Ezra. He could feel his muscles relax and his mind emptying of thoughts like water being poured out of a bucket. It left him with a clear focused mind, just what he needed to face a busy night ahead.

Hogarth had caught him doing it once and looked intrigued but said little about it. But when he found Ezra pretending to practice lightsaber training with a wooden rod, Hogarth just picked up another rod and told Ezra to follow him to the rooftop.

"You'll make a stronger stance when you bend your knees," Hogarth advised him. "Not so easy to get knocked off your feet that way." They sparred in silence for nearly half an hour until Tamar called them down to her office.

She was examining several tubs of cream-colored paint when Ezra and Hogarth entered. Tamar dipped one finger into the paint and rubbed it against her thumb. Hogarth shook his head.

"Wrong color?" asked Ezra.

"Wrong chemicals," said Hogarth. "This stuff is highly flammable. One blaster shot and the club could go up in flames."

"So why worry?"

"Because Commander Lin wanted to be a generous patron," explained Tamar. "And if we don't use it then his pride will be wounded."

"Bit of a tight spot for us," grumbled Hogarth. Ezra scratched the back of his head in thought.

"Why don't you get another kind of paint in the same color?" he suggested. "The Commander won't know the difference."

Tamar's eyes brightened at his offer. "Good idea, young Master Kay. We may make a club director of you yet."

"I'd rather leave that in your hands," Ezra admitted.

"Ordering more paint will cost us," Hogarth warned.

Tamar calculated numbers on her datapad. "It's a price we'll have to pay. In the meantime we can find a third party to buy _this_ paint from us." Seeing the corners of Ezra's mouth turn up she added, "I wonder what you find amusing about this."

"I was just thinking that the Empire might pose a real threat to the galaxy if they hired you as their accountant."

"I'd rather have my nails ripped off," replied Tamar. "Go get your jacket. I'm sending you and Miri to the 18th district."

A-A-A

The 18th district of Iolanthe was a grid of business warehouses and shopping vendors with security cameras in every nook and cranny. Miri was stopped twice by stormtroopers and each time she calmly presented her identification card and work registration number. They let her proceed but Ezra noticed how most people either ignored Miri or gave her leering looks.

Miri didn't have Tamar's imposing presence or Nava's dazzling smile. But in a closed-fitted gray dress and matching cape, she had a modest but regal air and carried herself with dignity. The few vendors they visited looked pleased to see Miri.

"Blue, green, pink, all credits are the same to me!" joked one contractor. Miri gave him a shy smile and presented him with the paint sample. He showed her several options and Miri selected a color from him. After arranging for a paint delivery, Ezra and Miri headed into the marketplace.

"You have to be careful with meilooruns here," she explained to Ezra. Miri held up a ripe fruit to her ear and shook it lightly. "Do you hear that sloshing sound inside? It means the meiloorun was injected with water to make it look plump and delicious. Likely it was from an underdeveloped colony where the water isn't safe to drink."

Ezra followed her example and went to other vendors, examining the meilooruns until he found a batch that didn't slosh at all and felt firm beneath his thumb. Miri smiled approvingly and placed an order.

"Hello Legs!"

Ezra and Miri turned around to see a pale lanky man in a trench coat and the tightest pants Ezra had ever seen. His spidery arms were lazily draped around two women in flimsy clothes and body paint. Ezra found it hard not to stare at them. Was it even possible to put piercing in those parts of the human body?

"Douglas," Miri said stiffly.

"Dodge. C'mon, Legs. You gotta loosen up a little," he smirked. Dodge's eyes ran up and down Miri as if she was a pretty bauble. "I tell ya, Legs. You can make ten times as much on our side of the street than with that crazy 'boss' of yours. And my gals and I will treat you a helluva lot nicer than her."

"Not interested."

Dodge shrugged. "So you say. Just wait until the Imperials flatten your place and then you'll be grateful if we even give you a second chance."

Ezra stepped in front of Miri and looked Dodge in the eye. "Leave her alone," he warned Dodge with a glare. "She said she wasn't interested."

Dodge gave Ezra a similar look-over and the girls draped around him did the same. "Say, Blue Eyes and Blue Legs! You're both fresh as daisies and I know Imperials who would pay big to spend time with you."

Miri's skin suddenly turned sickly gray. Her lips trembled but she said, "I am not a whore. I am a musician."

Dodge's face twisted into sneer. "Think you're better than us, is that it? You don't fool me, Legs. You may think you're oh-so-sophisticated but everyone knows your kind is only good for being flat on your back with your legs spread—"

Ezra's hand lashed out and he seized Dodge by the wrist, twisting it as far as he could go. "I said leave. _Her. Alone_ ," he hissed. His fingers pushed down as far as they could into the bone.

Dodge shrieked in protest while his peers did little to help.

"Kay, no! Not here!" Miri pleaded.

Ezra's teeth clenched with anger. It would be so easy to use the Force, to slam Dodge up against the wall, to tighten his windpipe and made him squirm in pain…

" _Inside you, much anger. Much fear,"_ Yoda's words whispered hauntingly to Ezra. He could see Kanan's green eyes glowing, understanding Ezra's anger yet warning against the dangers ahead.

With tremendous strength, Ezra shoved Dodge's wrist back at him. The man fell back on the pavement. Letting loose a stream of curses, he struggled to his feet and sauntered off. Nobody around them even cared to glance their way.

Ezra turned back to Miri, who appeared to have regained her usual color. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Miri looked astonished. "I'm the one who should be asking that! What were you thinking going up against him?"

"He insulted you! I couldn't let him get away thinking he could treat you like that!" Ezra insisted.

Several emotions flickered across Miri's face: confusion, concern, and then finally relief. The creases in her brow smoothed out. "It's been a long time since someone stood up for me," she said at last. "It was honorable of you, Kay. Thank you."

Ezra shrugged and pulled on his ear. "It's the least I could do. Besides, you're an amazing musician. You shouldn't let what other people say get you down."

"I know," Miri admitted. "Just like I know what people are thinking when they see me on the street but I can't change their minds. But at the club I can alter that perception for a short while. Playing music lets me prove myself through my actions."

"Now let me return the favor," she added. Miri stopped at a kiosk and purchased a fried dumpling stuffed with sweet cheese for Ezra and a cup of shaved ice for herself. The dumpling was so good that Ezra polished it off in three bites and Miri instantly bought him two more.

"It's my money and I'll use it however I want," she assured him.

"Don't you want to save it for something else?"

She shook her head.

"Unfortunately, Dodge is right. Tamar has a unique role operating a club in the middle of the Empire and we're on shaky ground as it is. If a single customer gets annoyed with us then a snap of bureaucratic fingers could have us all arrested."

"If life is so dangerous for you on Iolanthe then why don't you leave? I'm sure a lot of Outer Rim moons would appreciate your talent."

"Maybe," Miri said with a shrug. "But the way I see things, it's only a matter of time before the Outer Rim falls under the Empire. At least here on Iolanthe we know what to expect. And sometimes being in the eye of the storm can be the safest—"

She suddenly stopped talking when Ezra realize that Miri was starring at a woman coming down the street. She was carrying a baby in her arms and making soft cooing sounds to the child.

The cup of ice slipped out of Miri's limp hands. She starred at the woman with wide glassy eyes, her body suddenly rigid as a statue and a look of distorted pain on her face.

"What's wrong? Do you know her?" asked Ezra.

Miri said nothing, remaining immobilized and mute as the woman continued down the street and dissolved into the crowd.

Ezra watched her silently sink to her knees. Then the Twi'lek burst into tears, face buried in her hands as she sobbed aloud.

A-A-A

Hogarth sat on the rooftop with his hookah, watching the sunlight glint off skyscrapers.

Tamar disapproved of him taking a bit of spice ever-so-infrequently but it was his one and only vice. Not even his employer could bar Hogarth from it. He puffed away on the pipe while shuffling his thoughts.

A man of few words and busy hands, he was fiercely protective of his colleagues and did not trust outsiders. Why Tamar had brought in such an impudent young man was beyond Hogarth's scope. It was true that very few people would work for a _Twi'lek_ , especially on Iolanthe, and that an extra pair of hands was helpful but still...

Still, Tamar Ily'an was his employer and Hogarth would rather be the club bartender than do a thousand other roles for the Empire. So he just rolled up his sleeves and put Kay to work.

After a few days of careful observance, Hogarth was surprised at how quickly Kay caught on. The boy's annoyance with "the boss" was obvious (she had that influence on most people) but Kay carried out his chores dutifully and without cutting corners. Hogarth was especially pleased with how respectful he was to Nava and Miri.

If Kay did have a fallacy it was his tendency to be headstrong. He might strut or slip up but a sharp word swiftly put him back on track. The boy was no fool and he didn't want to appear like one, which impressed Hogarth.

Once he found Kay sitting on his cot with his legs folded beneath him and his posture straight and tall. His eyes were closed and his expression was peaceful. The aura around him was so serene that to Hogarth, it was as if someone else than Kay was sitting there.

Hogarth just stared at him from the doorway until Kay opened his eyes. "I was meditating," he explained quickly. "My master taught me," he added.

"Who was your master?" Hogarth had asked. Kay had looked away as if the question was an uncomfortable one.

"He _is_ a great man," Kay insisted with great admiration and respect. Hogarth wisely chose not to bring up the topic again.

Hogarth wouldn't let Kay fix drinks for the customers yet but he did teach the young man how to prepare the best cocktails, how to shave off ice in tiny diamond shapes, the proper way to pour a glass of Correllion wine, and which three bottles made a beverage that changed colors as you drank it.

"Mist is useful in everything," he concluded. Hogarth held up a bottle of clear liquid for Kay to see. "This alcohol has no taste or smell but it packs the same punch as anything else we've got."

"So what's Mist good for?"

"It's for people who don't like the taste of alcohol but want to get drunk with their friends."

Kay frowned. "Why would someone want to _do_ that?"

The question caught Hogarth off-guard. He had lived long enough to know that alcohol was a lifeboat to people who were drowning in their problems but the option hadn't even occurred to Kay.

"To forget. To calm down," Hogarth explained. "Life is tough and the Mist helps everything go away for a while."

"But it comes back in the end," Kay insisted. _Smart kid,_ Hogarth thought.

"Besides," Kay added. "I wouldn't want to forget things."

"Even if they hurt? Even painful memories and feelings?"

Kay nodded. "I have to remember the bad times as much as the good ones. If I chose to forget what mattered to me then what would I have left to keep me going?"

There it was again; behind the cocky facade something suggesting hints of wisdom, of insight. It would cross Kay's face for a moment making him look older than his teen years. But then it would slip away, returning to the cheeky kid that Hogarth was _kriff_ trying hard not to care about.

Just who was this "master" and what had he taught Kay?

_Kay needs more if he's going to have a future_ , thought Hogarth. _It may be too late for us but he should have an education._

An Imperial Academy was out of the question: they'd drum the ingenuity right out of Kay. Holo-net classes were little better. Hogarth wondered if he could convince Tamar to arrange for a private tutor for Kay.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the roof burst open. Nava looked panicky. "Miri had a relapse," she gasped.

"Damn." Hogarth put down his pipe and went downstairs. Miri was leaning on Kay for support and looked wretched. She nearly fell into Hogarth's arms, limbs shaking and tears streaming down her face. Without a word, he lifted her up into his arms as if she was a child and carried her up to her bedroom.

Ezra looked at Nava. "I don't understand," he said. "She just saw some woman with a baby and had a meltdown on the street. I kept asking her what was wrong but she wouldn't tell me."

Nava's eyes clouded over. "We need to make tea," she said. Ezra followed her into the kitchen where she began to brew hot water.

"What was that all about? Why won't you tell me anything?" he demanded.

"We can't tell you anything because we don't know ourselves, Kay. I don't think even Tamar knows what fully happened to Miri and she doesn't want us forcing questions upon her."

"Has this happened before?"

"Not as often as it used to." Nava plucked several leaves from a potted plant and placed them into a grinder. A spicy aroma filled the kitchen. "There's not much we can do, Kay. She just has to sleep it off for now. All we can do is wait and hope."

"Hope for what?"

"For her to come out of it." Seeing Ezra's pained expression, Nava sighed and went on. "I can only tell you what Miri told me. She swore that as long as the Empire exists she refuses to get married or have children."

The weight of her words hung in the air between them. "I'll bring her the tea," Ezra offered quickly.

Nava smiled faintly. "How did we get by before you came along, Kay?" She handed Ezra the tray and opened the door for him.

Ezra went up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to the bedroom that Nava and Miri shared. Balancing the tray with one hand, he used the other to press a button and the door slid open.

"Miri? Are you awake?" he whispered. The bundle in one of the beds didn't move. Ezra drew closer and carefully set the tray on a table. He glanced at Miri, who was twisted between the sheets as if caught up in a nightmare. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks wet with tears. Her face was taut with pain and restlessness.

Ezra instantly felt tears well up in his own eyes. Seeing her in so much pain, knowing how badly she had been treated today, made him want to help her more than ever. He needed something other than than a bottle of Mist.

He reached out and gently rested a hand upon her damp forehead. Kanan had cautioned Ezra about exploring other minds, especially unconscious ones. Ezra reached into himself and summoning the Force, let the power stream down his arm and through his fingertips.

The energy of life continued to flow smoothly from Ezra and into Miri. Her sleepy mind offered no resistance to him and opened up to his thoughts. He could sense deep sadness in her, an overwhelming void consuming her memories.

" _We cannot continue protecting Ryloth and will have to make preparations when the invasion arrives."_

" _On your feet. Keep moving! Oh sure, you'll see your parents again someday. Just keep moving!"_

_"It's so cold I can feel my teeth cracking inside my mouth. Ryloth's sun used to warm me to the bones. I'm so cold..."_

" _Mmmm, you know how I like it, baby. Just a little more mmm….now smile for me…."_

" _Under Order 458 of the Imperial Safety Code you are under arrest for subterfuge!"_

_"Keep your head down. Don't talk. Don't look at anyone. Just keep going, just keep going..."_

" _Hello, Miri. My name is Tamar Ily'an. I understand that you play the zephyr-harp. Would you like to come to my club for an audition?"_

Ezra's head jerked back, reeling from the connection.

"I'm sorry." His voice cracked when he spoke. "I'm so sorry, Miri. I had no idea."

She let out a faint shuddering sob in response.

Ezra changed his connection with the Force. He let it flow gently as possible, imagining the power as a soft rainfall, only healing, only nourishing, tenderly wrapping Miri in its warm embrace. And through the Force, Ezra's thoughts drifted through the thousands of tiny channels of energy and into the Twi'lek's subconscious.

" _I'm your friend, Miri. I care about you. We all care about you. You are not alone."_

Miri's pained face began to smooth out. Her lips parted and she released a soft sigh, limbs relaxing as she sank into a deep harmless sleep.

When Ezra pulled back his hand, he was surprised at how exhausted he was. But he felt proud of himself for what he had done. He drew a blanket up to Miri's chin and then bending over, gently kissed her on the cheek. Ezra left the room as quietly as he had entered.

Hogarth looked worried when Ezra came downstairs. "You all right, Kay? You look pale," he said.

"I am a little tired," Ezra admitted. The healing technique must have taken more out of him than he thought because he felt drained of energy.

Hogarth handed him a glass of juice. "Finish that up and then get some rest. Don't worry, I'll wake you up when it's time to open the club. You've had a busy day, kid."

A-A-A

Author's notes:

Tamar's last name, Ily'an, is a pun on the Hebrew word for tree (Ilan). When in doubt reach for Shakespeare or Greek tales. Story characters endure many ordeals but I like to make sure that they eat well along the way. It's the Jewish mother in me.


	3. Chapter 3

It started with a sore throat one evening that turned into a raspy throat the next day.

"Are you all right, Kay? You sound a bit hoarse," said Nava.

"I'm okay," Ezra assured her. He gulped down a huge mug of wintermint tea and quickly gathered his things.

Miri was still bedridden so nobody else thought twice when "Kay" offered to run her errands for the day. In fact, they were touched by his generosity. It was the perfect alibi for Ezra Bridger who now had enough credits to send his transmission.

Tamar gave him a shopping list along with an identification card and told him to present it to any stormtroopers that gave him trouble.

"Don't pick a fight with them," she warned him. "And remember curfew."

"I'll be back soon," Ezra promised. A headache followed him out the door. Ezra wanted to get the job done and be back at the Jewel Garden as soon as possible. Had the healing technique taken that much out of him?

After placing orders for linens at one vendor and glasses from another, Ezra made a beeline for the transmission hub. It was a tall slim building with screens plastering the insides, only separated by booths so customers could work in silence. The cool dark interior was a relief to Ezra's eyes and he handed the credits to a bored-looking Imperial cadet in red hair and freckles.

She nearly glared at him and it took a lot of effort to give her a cheery smile. "Your code credentials?"

"Gama-Six-Nine-Three-Oh-Two," he said. It was one of several "keys" that the Ghost crew had swapped from a data analyst that had opened up many doors during their adventures.

She punched in the numbers and handed Ezra a dark red tag. "Your limit is 37 constituents. Under Section 4891-AY of the Imperial Broadcasting Holo-Service, all outgoing transmissions will be scanned for security purposes. Violation of the code will result in immediate arrest." Everything was rattled off with the personality of a sanitation droid.

Ezra slipped into an empty booth and shut the door behind him. The tag was inserted below a plasma screen that lit up under his command. Though the Empire scanned thousands, if not millions, of transmissions daily, Ezra knew he'd have to be cautious. His message must be short and undetected while sending it out to as many channels possible.

It took several minutes to come up with a proper code but Ezra finally punched in the message and watched the screen go from green to red and white. _"Your transmission is complete. The Empire thanks you for your service."_

"I'm sure it does," Ezra muttered under his breath. He had done all he can; now all he could do was wait and hope that they would find his message.

It took a long time to walk back to the Jewel Garden.

A-A-A

"Sure you should be up already? We're glad to see you doing better but don't want you pushing yourself," warned Hogarth.

"I think I'll be all right," Miri assured him. Her skin was still pale but her eyes were clear and bright. She gratefully accepted a cup of kaff from him. "Tamar suggested I postpone my evening performance but I can still help with preparations."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Well, all right, if you say so."

Miri took a slow sip from her cup. "A good night's sleep helped a lot," she explained. Hogarth scratched his chin in response. Just then, Nava strode into the kitchen.

"Have you seen Kay?" she asked.

Miri looked surprised. "Didn't he come back a while ago?"

Hogarth nodded. "Yup, went straight to his room."

She tapped her chin in thought. "That's funny. He's usually bouncing all over the place."

Miri frowned and rose to her feet. "We should go check on him". They headed to the back room and Hogarth knocked on the door.

A muffled groan came from the other side. The door slid open and they saw Ezra bunched up on his cot.

"Kay? You all right?"

"I'm-" He was interrupted by a fit of wet coughs that lasted for several seconds. When he was finally able to breathe again, wheezes and gasps followed. Nava was by his side in an instant. A green hand touched his forehead and instantly pulled back.

"He's burning up!"

"I feel cold," Ezra admitted. Even under the heavy wool blanket, chills seeped through his skin while his head felt so hot and swollen that it might burst from pain. Even his bones felt as if they were grinding mercilessly against each other.

Hogarth pulled down another blanket from a shelf and wrapped it around him. "I'll get Tamar. You two watch over him."

Miri knelt down beside Nava. Her blue fingers reached towards him and gently brushed strands of damp hair out of his face. "Don't worry, Kay. Everything is going to be all right," she murmured softly.

His eyes flickered restlessly under lids. "Mom…..Dad…." he whispered weakly. The Twi'leks exchanged surprised glances.

"Why...did you go?" he asked faintly. "Why?"

A-A-A

Ezra was shaken out of a hazy sleep when someone propped his head off the pillow. A cup touched his lips and he tasted cool water. But when he tried to swallow his stomach contracted in protest. Ezra coughed and sputtered up water, shaking his head in protest.

"C'mon, Kay. Just a little bit?" begged Miri.

"I can't." His head was rested back against the pillow and then a cool metal finger touched his right temple.

 _"His temperature has risen to 102.2 degrees,"_ diagnosed MD-408. The short rotund droid rolled around to face Tamar. Two pale green lenses clicked rapidly like blinking eyes. _"Has he been vaccinated against Draxo Influenza?"_

"I doubt it," Tamar admitted. "Do we need to admit him to a medical facility?"

 _"That will not be necessary nor will a bacta tank hasten his recovery. The virus will run its course in approximately 24 to 72 hours,"_ explained the droid. _"He must have maximum rest and increase his intake of fluids. Make sure he takes this electrolyte injection every six hours."_ A tiny drawer popped out of the droid revealing a syringe.

Tamar took the syringe from MD-408 and inserted it into Ezra's wrist. There was a soft _hiss_ and then his limp arm fell at his side.

_"If his temperature has not changed in 24 hours then you must contact me. In the meantime the patient requires respite and silence."_

"Thank you, MD-408." The droid wheeled itself out of the room followed by Tamar.

Miri remained by Ezra's side. Her fingers slowly drifted through his dark hair in smooth even strokes. The tiny pads of her fingers brushed against his scalp. The touch was intimate but not intrusive and his body started to relax from the gesture. The touch moved to the small of his back, fingers feeling for the knobs in his spine and applying soft pressure in spirals.

Ezra closed his eyes as fatigue sank back in.

"Kay, you mentioned your parents."

"Mmmhmm," he mumbled incoherently.

"Do you know where they are?"

"Gone," he answered sleepily.

"I'm sorry."

"Ghost."

"What?"

"Ghost."

"Kay, what is 'Ghost'?"

"...family..."

A-A-A

_Iolanthe, next day_

Hogarth was polishing glasses with extra zeal that afternoon when the door to the club banged open. He frowned, well-aware that loud noises during off hours usually meant trouble. Dodge strutted into the club with his chin thrust up in the air. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made a pretense of examining the room.

"Cute place you got here," he smirked. "Very cute."

"We're closed," Hogarth said with a glare.

"Relax, bub. You still got some drinks to spare, dontcha? Now just make the customer happy and I'm sure the 'boss' won't mind at all."

Dodge draped himself across one of the velvet chairs. "Now how about you put that ugly mug of yours to work and bring me a Bomar whiskey?"

The scars on Hogarth's neck darkened but he went to the bar. He poured a quarter shot of whiskey into a glass and filled the rest of it with as much Mist as it could hold. Dodge snatched the glass from him and swallowed it down greedily. "Another! I've got credits to spare!" he laughed, waving the glass around.

Hogarth plied him with another drink and then quietly slipped from the room. He found Tamar and Nava in the corridor and in a few hushed whispers, informed them what was going on.

"Dodge the Slimy-Fingered is here?" Nava shuddered. "Nasty guy."

Tamar sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "With Miri still fatigued and Kay being bed-ridden, everything is going to hell."

"What do we do, boss?" Nava asked.

"Be quiet," Tamar ordered her. "Let me think." Her fingers went to her temples and she proceeded to rub them silently for a minute. Her employees stood by, patiently waiting for orders. Finally, Tamar opened her blue eyes.

"Hogarth, move Kay up to my room and change the security codes on it as well as Miri's room. Tell her not to make a sound or come out until I say so. Nava, go to the 18th district and process a rental claim for a BT-394 protocol droid."

"The droid tax went up three percent," Nava warned her.

"I know but it's our best option for now. BT-394 will take Kay's place this evening and I'll take Miri's place on the stage."

"Want me to fix you something strong, boss?" offered Hogarth.

Tamar smiled at him. "Just a fresh kaff. I'll sing it all off tonight." With a wave of her slender fingers, all three employees of the Jewel Garden sprang into action. Tamar took the initiative by approaching the now-sodden Dodge, who looked up at her through bleary eyes.

"You're not Legs," he muttered hazily.

"No I'm not," she said firmly. "I am the owner of this club and I suggest that you leave before six stormtroopers walk through that door."

His blood-shot eyes starred at her in defiance while Tamar held her gaze. After a tense moment, Dodge finally got up and shuffled out of the club on wobbly feet.

 _Good riddance_ , Tamar thought to herself.

She unconsciously wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt.

A-A-A

When Ezra woke up he was no longer on his cot but nestled between white cotton sheets. The feather mattress beneath him was wide and soft. He placed his palms on the mattress and tried to prop himself up onto his elbows. Instantly he was rewarded with a throbbing headache. Ezra groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Careful, Kay. The virus took a lot out of you," Tamar warned him. He saw her across the room, sitting at a night-table and examining herself in the mirror. Nava was helping her with the buttons on the back of her dress.

Ezra glanced around the light airy room. Twi'lek tapestries hung from the walls alongside several brass pots of flowers that sat on the shelves. The furniture was made of honey-colored wood and had been polished to a warm glow. A delicate chanticleer of smoked quartz glittered overhead.

"You're in my room," Tamar explained. "It's the quietest place during club hours and you'll be undisturbed while you rest."

"You brought me here?"

"Hogarth did the heavy lifting," Tamar added. She put the finishing touches on her makeup and rose to her feet.

"Well, Kay. Do you think our guests will approve?"

Ezra was stunned. His hard-nosed employer had transformed herself into an extraordinary woman.

She had rubbed some cosmetic into her skin that made it glitter softly under the lights. Her eyes had been lightly touched with kohl and now shined like twin stars. She wore a dress of heavy white material that flowed down to her ankles and rippled with every movement. The collar was square cut, revealing an elegant neck adorned with a slender silver chain and a black pearl that rested in the hollow of Tamar's throat. She had tied a silver scarf around her head and twined the ends around her lekku.

Standing before him with the white fabric glowing against her skin and her posture confident and composed, Tamar looked radiant; a woman that people would want to shower with grace and honor.

Ezra had a sudden impression of Princess Leia in a white dress and his ears reddened.

A genuine warm smile graced Tamar's features, making her look lovelier than ever. "I'll take that as a yes."

Nava clapped her hands together. "Miri did a good job with the dress. You look absolutely charming." She waved a hand to Ezra. "You get better soon, okay?" Then she slipped out of the room.

Tamar picked up her gloves and made her way to the door. She was about to leave when she glanced over her shoulder at Ezra.

"If you promise to be quiet then you can watch from the balcony." Then she turned off the lights and shut the door behind her.

Ezra sank back into the cushions and closed his eyes. The thick tapestries had made the room pleasantly cool and dark and before Ezra knew it, he was fast asleep. When he woke up several hours later, the headache was gone and Ezra felt refreshed. He carefully put his feet on the floor and managed to stand up. He was still exhausted but his fever had broken.

Someone had left him a tray of biscuits and a cup of cool sweet tea on the table. _Miri_ , he thought, and finished the tea. Ezra slid the door open a crack and was rewarded with the sounds of glasses clinking and laughs melding together from the club below. He opened the door further and quietly tiptoed to railing.

Peering down from the balcony, Ezra had a full view of the club and its customers. They looked like living dolls seated around toy glass tables. Even from the tops of their heads, he could now recognize the clothes and voices of Commander Lin, Duchess Keiko, and other popular guests.

Ezra watched the protocol droid do his duties by rolling along the floor and delivering drinks while Nava quickly filled up empty glasses. Tamar approached Nava and whispered something into her ear. Nava nodded, picked up her flute, and went to the stage. Tamar followed her, carefully lifting up the hem of her dress as she ascended the stairs. The club lights dimmed and instantly everyone was silent.

Nava blew several long sweet notes from her flute while Tamar swayed slowly to the music, her dress rippling like the petals of a flower. Her lips parted and she began to sing:

_"When the moon is low and cool and the grass is tall and green_

_I will sing this song for you my dear_

_The song of my fondest dream_

_Can you hear me, my dear one?_

_Your eyes are full of stars_

_Your lips are full of love_

_May the light of my hope find you someday_

_From the shining skies above..."_

Her voice was wonderfully deep and smooth, like the rolling wave of a river, and Ezra couldn't help but rest his hands on the railing and close his eyes. The music swept over him, serene and content, and he felt himself sway back and forth along with the rhythm.

When he opened his eyes Tamar was still singing and Ezra focused on her expression. All traces of formality and concern were gone; she seemed free of obligations and responsibilities. Tamar's smile was one of genuine happiness and for a moment, despite her surroundings, she seemed truly free and at peace with herself.

When her song ended and the last notes melted away, the audience raised their hands and applauded briefly but genuinely with delight.

"Brave!"

"Wonderful!"

"Smashing!"

Tamar dropped one knee behind the other and sank down into a smooth curtsy. The lights changed and she straightened up, ready for another song.

While everyone else remained in their seats enjoying the show, Ezra instantly noticed three figures rising from their tables and making their way towards a back exit. Even in the dimmed room he could make out the Commander Lin, Cato, and Boller.

"Now where are you going?" he muttered to himself.

A-A-A

Hogarth had mentioned that the Jewel Garden was originally two small Republic buildings that had been fused into one. While communications and security wiring had been properly fixed, there were still gaps and chutes where the property hadn't been fully sealed up. Tamar had handled the crucial parts but was constantly aware of repairs to be made one by one.

Ezra fumbled his way into Tamar's closet, inwardly praying he wouldn't trip and fall among the racks of clothing and stacks of headscarves. There was a ceiling access door above his head and by channeling just a hint of his energy, it snapped open. He hoisted himself up and into the tunnel. Ezra had to stop and catch his breath for a minute. Then his Loth-rat instincts kicked back in and soon he was crawling through the chutes. Snatches of music and voices could be heard beneath him.

He closed his eyes and pressed a hand to the metal sheeting beneath his feet. "Focus," he whispered. The Force flickered in his eyes, directing him further along. The metal sheeting ended at an iron doorway that had to be pried open.

Glancing down, Ezra nearly yelped at the bottomless chute he had located. But across from the chute was another doorway just big enough for him to squeeze through. Fortunately, the chute was only three feet long and Ezra managed to make it to the other side in one quick jump.

The iron door must have been a lift in the days of the Republic. Ezra tried to open it as well but it made such groans of protests that he left it open a crack. While he couldn't see more than a pair of shoes on the carpet, he could hear well enough if he pressed his ear to the crack and tried not to breathe too loudly.

"Have you scanned this room for espionage technology?" came the voice of Commander Lin.

"I will do so again, sir." That was Cato speaking. Ezra heard two clicks followed by a humming sound. "The scanner indicated no traces of robotics."

Ezra couldn't stop grinning. Cato had been scanning for mechanics, not lifeforms. This was certainly a moment of fate.

"Onto business, gentlemen." It was Commander Lin again. "Your prototype 'space bombs' are able to detect signals from ships that do not carry Imperial codes. Is that correct?"

"Yes sir," said Boller. "If the codes do not comply with our standards then the bomb attaches itself to that ship and detonates in space."

"Hmmm, I see. The engineering designs you showed me were certainly thorough. However..." There was a moment of silence from Commander Lin.

"However your bombs have not been able to distinguish the codes of those dangerous rebels, have they?"

"We're close enough, Commander," Cato said quickly. "The rebels hide within civilian crowds and dissolve quickly. They are more devious than we give them credit for."

Ezra smiled from the unintended compliment.

"But with our new bombs we will be able to smoke them out," concluded Boller.

"Hmm-hmmph!" coughed Commander Lin. "So you intend to take down the rebels along with hard-working Imperial citizens? No, this will not do. The Empire cannot afford to appear careless or neglectful. Now to be frank, your bombs will certainly be useful in the long term. But they must be perfected before we go into full production."

"With all due respect Commander," Cato protested. "By the time we have these bombs 'perfected', the rebels will have caused more damage than we can anticipate. We must strike first!"

"Sergeant Cato, were you or were you not at the top of your class at the Science Academy?" demanded Commander Lin.

"I was, sir."

"Then I suggest you live up to your reputation! I refuse to believe that a handful of rabble rousers have motivated you and Sergeant Boller to produce shoddy work."

"Sir, my loyalty to the Empire is unflappable-"

"-then prove it!" Commander Lin thundered. Ezra heard his boots stomp out of the room.

He held his breath, waiting for Cato and Boller to speak their minds.

"That went well." Boller's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Damn bitch," Cato snapped. "It's her fault the Commander has been losing interest lately. Watching her flaunt herself in front of him, in front of everyone. It's sickening."

"I share your sentiments on the Twi'leks," agreed Boller. "But they are merely annoying distractions. You should save your temper for other matters."

"Yes, like having the door shut in our faces," Cato fumed. "It's because of that incident on Lothal that the Empire is concerned with public image. In the meantime we have 48 prototypes and no buyers."

"What about your sub-contractor?"

Cato's voice smoothed out. "I hadn't thought of that. For a commission he can funnel them through the black market. And if he pays us one thousand for every device we give him…"

"Then we can easily sell off four crates," his peer concluded. "But what if Commander Lin accuses us of negligence?"

"Blame it on smugglers," Cato insisted. "We can claim they stole our prototypes even though we fought to keep them out of production. Then it won't be our fault if they go _boom boom_ in space. We get credit for the design and paid for the service."

"I like it." Ezra could hear the glee in Boller's voice.

"I knew you would. I'll arrange for a meeting quickly. But we'd better get back to the show before the Commander gets suspicious."

Boller chuckled. "That blue-skinned vixen certainly has a lot of stamina."

"I thought you said they were annoying distractions."

"I did," declared Boller. "But at least they're pretty ones. In fact, when this excuse-for-a-club finally gets pulled to the ground, I'm thinking of taking one home. Which one would you like?"

"Me? I'll have the green one."

Boller clicked his tongue. "She's a bit silly, don't you think?"

"Naïve. But as her master I could teach her well."

"I'm sure you will."

Ezra remained crouched down in his place until long after Cato and Boller had left the room. His temples were still throbbing.

A-A-A

_Iolanthe, late morning_

Tamar clasped her hands together and frowned at Ezra from across her desk.

"I confess I didn't expect this behavior from you, Kay. I'm disappointed with your actions."

"But don't you see? What they're doing is dangerous!" Ezra insisted. "Those space bombs won't just be tracking rebels. They can't distinguish between civilian and military crafts. They could explode on any ship!"

"Which is why, if your story is accurate, Commander Lin will not allow the bombs to go into full production until they have full Imperial approval," she said smoothly.

"And until then? What's to stop Cato and Boller from selling prototype samples to smaller sects of the Empire or criminals?" Ezra demanded. "You know how badly they want the credit for this. They'll cut corners and other people will suffer for it."

"That's a risk we're going to have to take."

Ezra shook his head in frustration. "How can you be this heartless? Tamar, people could die!"

Tamar placed her palms on the desk and rose to her feet. "People die every day under the Empire, Kay. And we will share their fate if we say the wrong word."

"But you're a well-respected person on Iolanthe! If you mentioned this to Commander Lin..."

"...he'd call me his 'dear little Tamar' and tell me not to worry my 'pretty little head' about it," she finished for him. "Meanwhile, he and his peers would get suspicious about how a Twi'lek discovered information about a government contract. For everybody else's sake, for Miri's sake, we have to keep our mouths shut."

"Okay, I understand. You don't want to put them in jeopardy. But why don't we try-"

"-this conversation is finished, Kay. I don't want to hear another word about it."

"But-"

" _Finished_."

Ezra glared at Tamar but even her piercing gaze caused him to look away in defeat. He exited the room in a hurry and nearly collided into Nava.

"There you are, Kay!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad everyone's back on their feet. Miri's been rehearing all day and wants your input on her new symphony. And Hogarth said he'll teach us a new sabaac trick-"

"I can't," he snapped irritably. He stepped aside, instantly sensing Nava's bruised feelings. She wrapped her green arms around herself.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"No, I'm sorry," he added. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now. Tell them I have some catching up to do, okay?"

She managed a tiny smile and nodded. Ezra made his way to the back room and pulled out the maintenance droid that had been hiding under his cot. He turned it upside down, popped open the hatch, and began fiddling around with the insides.

Tamar could go to Mustafar for all he cared. Ezra Bridger had a job to do.

And if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

A-A-A

_Vadmor System, Core Planet Border_

Chopper had been processing transmissions on every planet he could access until smoke was hissing out of his vents. He would have crashed from overheating had Sabine not coaxed him into powering down for a few minutes.

"We know how hard you've been working to find any signs of Ezra," Sabine said. "But it won't help him if you burn out your generator core".

Chopper burbled reluctantly but let Sabine plug him into the power station while his circuits had a few minutes to cool off. Once his scanners confirmed he was operation at maximum capacity again, he plugged back into the signal computer and continued his search at light speed.

The irregular heart rates of the other Ghost members strengthened Chopper's resolution: the sooner Ezra Bridger was found, the sooner everyone's vital signs would stabilize. But for now he had to endure the annoying tones of the odious pirate in the background.

"Vizago says he knows nothing but you know you cannot trust that scoundrel," declared Hondo. "Perhaps I could convince the Lightning Squad to reveal some of their trade secrets."

Kanan frowned. "I already gave you startup credits. You'll get fully paid when you bring us a solid lead. In the meantime keep us posted."

"Of course, of course! Anything to get the one-and-only Ezra Bridger back safe and sound." Hondo sighed. "Nasty business, these black market thugs. They can drop a person down a tunnel before you can say-"

 _BUBU-WAH-KFFT-GRR!_ Chopper's gears whizzed excitedly.

Kanan turned to the astromech. "You found something? What is it?"

Chopper adjusted the frequency, removed the filters, and discarded the background static. When he turned it up to full capacity there was no mistaking that broadcast signal:

_"SpectorsixSpectorsixSpectorsixSpectorsixSpectorsixSpectorsixSpectorsix..."_

Hope and relief flooded the young man's heart. "It's Ezra!" Kanan shouted. "We found Ezra's signal!"

The human's heart rate was _definitely_ elevated by now. Chopper waved a mechanical arm in triumph as Hera and Zeb burst into the cockpit.

Hera staggered backwards and had to rest a hand on Sabine's shoulder. "Are you sure?" she asked faintly.

Sabine instantly squeezed her hand. "Yes, Hera!" she smiled happily. "That's Ezra's signal all right."

"Good job, Chopper. Where is he?" asked Zeb.

It took three seconds of whistles and bleeps to pinpoint the signal's location.

" _Iolanthe_?!" everyone exclaimed.

"Iolanthe!" cheered Hondo. "The flower of the Empire's heart! That is, if the Empire liked flowers and had a heart to spare." He lifted his hands into the air and began waltzing with an invisible partner. Zeb looked on in disgust.

"What the _kriff_ is he doing on Iolanthe?" demanded Kanan.

"Who cares? The important thing is that we can get to him," smiled Hera. Kanan quickly strode to the back of the ship with everyone else following in single file. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and whipped around so hard that they crashed into each other.

"Hold on, hold on," said Kanan. "We all just can't drop into Iolanthe like any other mission."

"Nobody gets left behind this time behind this time," Hera insisted. "This is a team effort to rescue Ezra."

"And smash a few bucketheads along the way," Zeb snickered.

Kanan raised his hands in defeat. "Believe me, I want all of us to be together again as badly as you do. But this planet is in a central Empire zone. Non-humans are in the minority and have heavily restricted rights. If Hera and Zeb are found on Iolanthe..."

He let his voice trail off while his words sank into them. Hera frowned and then sighed. "We might stir up unwanted attention, I understand. It isn't fair but our options are limited.

"And I'm bettin' the sight of a Lasat will make unwanted heads turn," Zeb added. He folded his arms over his chest. "Aright, Kanan. We'll stay put for now. But we're backin' you up in case things get nasty."

Kanan nodded in confirmation. "You two can pilot the Ghost in the upper stratosphere so we can make a clean getaway. Chopper can help mask the Phantom's signal as we touchdown into Iolanthe. Sabine will cover for me."

Sabine brightened up at his words until he added, "Sorry but no artistic flare on this mission. We need to be bland enough to melt into the background." He tossed her a nondescript gray metal helmet and faded jacket.

"Yuck," she gagged. Sabine reluctantly put it over her head while Kanan threw on a heavy leather coat. He turned up the collar as high as it would go and then pulled the hood down over his head.

"Kanan," Hera said softly. She approached him and handed the young man a small computerized readout.

"What's this?"

"Registration and manual for the Ghost. If Ezra is being held against his will by some filthy criminals then we can't bargain over his life." Her eyes glowed steadily at him. "No credit-hungry scoundrel would resist my ship in exchange for one boy."

Kanan met her gaze in silence and then nodded. He took the readout from Hera and then putting his arms around her shoulders, pulled her into a warm embrace.

It was moments like this when his love for her had no limits. The Ghost was part of Hera's spirit, a leap of freedom for her boundless energy to explore the universe. But not even the Ghost mattered one-tenth as much as Ezra Bridger. Hera would have traded a fleet full of ships for him in a heartbeat.

"I'll do whatever it takes to get him back. I promise."

"Thank goodness there's Plan B for backup," Sabine added. She patted the blaster strapped to her thigh.

"Does that mean I do not get my finder's fee?" Hondo pipped up. Five glares and an aggravated astromech responded in the negative.

The pirate quickly exited the ship in awkward murmurs while the Ghost crew raced into action.

 _Hang on, Ezra_ , thought Kanan. _We're coming._

A-A-A

_Imperial Science Academy, Iolanthe_

It had sounded like a good idea back at the club. But now that his body was pressed against the skyline of the Imperial Science Academy with the humming of patrol aircrafts overhead and the chilling realization that this was insanely past curfew, Ezra was having second thoughts.

Second thoughts, but not regrets. There was no turning back.

The only question was that if he got caught, would it be worse facing stormtroopers or Tamar?

Tamar. _Definitely_ Tamar.

If there was a positive side to this scenario, it was thanks to Ezra's preparations ahead of time. He had overheard Commander Lin saying that security would be lax on this side of Iolanthe due to a formal presentation in the 8th district. And even Tamar had not noticed the temporary absence of Sergeant Cato's security card. Ezra had removed it from the officer's coat, duplicated the codes, and returned it before anyone could notice.

The duplicate card was tucked away into Ezra's jacket. In one pocket he carried confiscated gears from the maintenance droid for picking locks. In the other was a small canister of highly-flammable paint.

The duplicate card swiped smoothly across the scanner. Ezra waited for the count of three and then the tiny red light flickered to green. The skyline's metal grate drew open smoothly. Ezra lifted up the glass door and proceeded to dismantle the internal alarms. One by one, the soft humming sounds faded into silence.

He dropped down into the building and landed on all fours. Not a single light or a person's voice broke the silence and for once, Ezra found it disturbing. The duplicate card didn't open up the first four doors but upon the fifth, the doors parted willingly. Four crates of prototype bombs sat on tables, each one carefully marked and registered with Imperial codes.

Ezra pried open the crates and one-by-one, dipped the bottoms into the paint canister. He made sure that none of the cream-colored stuff showed anywhere else and was careful to set them back down properly. The bombs were meant to withstand the freezing temperatures of space; a few notches up the thermostat and hopefully the paint would set off a chain reaction.

An idea sparked up in Ezra's mind. He checked to make sure the safety clips were turned on and then placed a bomb in each pocket. He had a hunch they could be useful in the future.

He scaled up a pipe and exited the skyline as smoothly as he came in. While Ezra would have congratulated himself on a job well done several years ago, he realized the longing that came from working with a team. Being solo wasn't as thrilling as it once was.

Breaking in and out of the Academy had been the easy part. Getting back to the Jewel Garden undetected before sunrise would be the tricky part, not to mention finding a safe place to hide the bombs.

Ezra crept from one block to another, staying in the shadows and pressing himself against the walls whenever aircraft spotlights shined in the streets. Except for stormtroopers, the streets were eerily empty. He was more than halfway back to the Jewel Garden when a hand clawed at him, yanking Ezra down into darkness.

His arms flayed through the air as Ezra tried to fight off his attacker. But the limbs jabbed and poked back; a fist rammed into his stomach before his arm was twisted tightly behind his back.

"Hello, Blue." Dodge's voice came out in a gleeful hiss. "What's a kid like you doing out past curfew?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Ezra growled. He tried shoving Dodge back against a wall but his attacker was taller and faster. Dodge slammed Ezra against the ground, his knees pressed down upon Ezra's spine. He could feel his lungs flattening from the pressure.

"Get off me!" he warned. "I've got two explosives in my pockets and if you're not careful—"

"—oh, I'll be very careful, Blue." Ezra squirmed from the unpleasant sensation as fingers deftly slipped into his pockets and then extracted the bombs.

"Let's see, out and about town when you should be home, playing with the Empire's toys without permission, tsk tsk," Dodge tutted. "You've been a very naughty boy, Kay. I wonder what the stormtroopers on the next block will think about this."

"Go ahead and call them," Ezra said quickly. He could sense hatred rippling off Dodge and it made bile rise up in his throat. He would take his chances with the stormtroopers rather than the psychopath sitting on top of him.

Dodge shifted his weight, hips grinding against Ezra. "Believe me, kiddo. I'd like nothing better than to throw you to the bucketheads. But if I do that then Tamar's cute little club will be swarming with stormtroopers by sunrise." He bent down until his mouth nearly touched Ezra's ear. He could smell cheap cologne and sweat…and something else, something sickly and cruel.

"I know you're Miri's new gallant knight but could you protect her from an entire squad of trigger-happy soldiers? I doubt it."

Ezra's limbs suddenly went from shaking to slack. A soft laugh flitted through the darkness.

"Good thinking, Kay. Heroes always get what's coming to them."

A hand grabbed Ezra's hair and yanked his head sharply back. The long cool fingers touched his chin, taking their time as they slowly traced down the curve of his throat. Ezra's pulse thundered in his ears, a lump of ice forming in his stomach. The sickly sensation was closing in around him like a pool of black water, pulling him down and underneath. Air and blood were being sucked out of him; he couldn't breathe from the nightmare unfolding around him…

"Don't get me wrong, Blue. You're a pretty piece of work but Miri's still at the top of my list," Dodge went on. "You'll just hold me over until the main course."

A kind face, sad yet steadfast, formed in Ezra's head. Instantly a surge of fury coursed through his veins.

"You're nothing compared to her," Ezra spoke up. "You don't even deserve to be in the same galaxy as Miri."

Dodge shoved Ezra's head against the ground so hard that stars winked in his head. He waited until another spotlight flitted across the street to speak again.

"I'd be careful if I were you," Dodge threatened. But Ezra was gaining strength all the same.

"You're not only sick, you're jealous," Ezra heard himself say. "You're jealous because Miri and Tamar can stay strong and brave even with the Empire breathing down their necks."

 _Tamar?_ Since when did he start standing up for _her_?

"Blue, you're the one who has to worry about his neck."

A puff of chilled breath brushed against Ezra's right ear. Then cold sharp teeth sank in the skin of Ezra's neck and the pain struck him like lightening. A strangled plea was caught in his throat, forming little more than a faint gasp. For a moment Ezra thought he was dying.

_So cold...so scared..._

A rush of power instantly swept over Ezra and Dodge's body was suddenly thrust off of him. The attacker went flying backwards and was slammed into a wall, arms and legs pinned into place. Had he done that? No, the energy had come from somewhere else...

Eyes squinting in the newly dim light, Ezra saw a tall figure hovering over Dodge's face. The attacker's eyes rolled in the back of his head.

A hand reached out for Dodge's face and a voice spoke out in a low threatening rasp.

_"Sleep. Forget."_

The newcomer drew back his hand and Dodge fell at his feet in an unconscious heap. Ezra sank back on his heels, body still reeling from the sudden shock. Slowly, he was becoming aware of his surroundings and something not threatening but...familiar.

The stranger turned around, pulling off the hood that had covered his face. The Force was humming again in the presence that was instantly recognizable.

"Ezra?"

The voice sank into Ezra, the rush of warmth and hope filling his body. But he couldn't even find the words to speak. He just sat there stunned as his mentor, his dedicated and brave master, had fallen to the pavement next to Ezra and wrapped his arms around him.

"Thank the Force!" Kanan's voice trembled. "You're alive!"

"Kanan?" Ezra's voice came out faint like a worried child.

"Yes, Ezra. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay."

The full impact crashed into Ezra as he was embraced. He could hardly feel the pressure on his rib cage; his heart was thundering too loudly. Something deep and throbbing rose up in his throat and he was suddenly sobbing, tears streaming down his face. All this time he hadn't realized just how badly he wanted to be with his family until he had found them again.

He buried his face in his Kanan's shoulder, fingers curled tightly into the man's coat for support.

"Where were you?" Ezra sobbed. "Where _were_ you?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Ezra." He felt a hand cup the back of his head, shielding him from the dangers around him. "We were looking everywhere for you." It didn't matter how long he was being held, all of Ezra's fears and worries that he had suppressed and channeled away were finally surfacing and he let them flow, let them come and come along with his sobs.

When he had finally exhausted himself, he let Kanan pull him out of the embrace. The green eyes flickered up and down. "Are you all right, Ezra? Are you hurt at all?"

"I, I'm fine," he said.

Kanan's gaze narrowed. "Are you sure? Because if there's anyone else like that monster out here that tried to get his hands on you..."

"No! No, nothing like that."

"You there!" Ezra and Kanan turned to see two stormtroopers standing in the front of the alleyway. "What are you doing out past curfew?"

Kanan opened his mouth but the stormtroopers were instantly vibrating from electric shocks before falling over. Ezra heard the rumbling grunts of a familiar astromech and saw a slim figure beside it, blasters in hand.

"Sabine? Chopper?"

The young woman pulled off her helmet and threw herself against Ezra. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he felt his chest tighten up again. "Ezra! Thank stars, you're alive!" She rested her head upon his neck, still hugging him, and her soft hair touched his cheek. "Did they hurt you? How did you survive?"

"Long story," he stammered. "But I'm okay. I'll explain later." Sabine was still wiping the tears out of her eyes when she held him at arm's length and examined him carefully.

"What happened to your hair? And what's with the earring?"

Ezra instantly pulled off the earring. "Like I said, a long story. I know, crazy, right?"

Sabine smiled at him. "Actually, it's a sharp look."

"Really? Because I can change it…."

"I said 'sharp'. I didn't mean 'you."

"Oh."

It was only then that Ezra realized a new source of pain coming from Chopper, who was bashing himself against Ezra's knee. He couldn't help but laugh and kneel down, rubbing the droid's dome.

"You missed me too, huh?"

Chopper burbled eagerly.

"We've wasted enough time," Kanan said. "The Phantom is about ten blocks from here but we have to move fast."

"Wait! I can't leave yet." Ezra showed everyone the cuff on his wrist. "If I try to get off Iolanthe then this flares up like a beacon."

Sabine tapped a few coordinates on her wrist panel. "It looks complicated. I don't know if I can reprogram it."

"Do your best," Kanan said. "Time is running out and it'll be sunrise soon."

Chopper extended a mechanical arm and also attempted to deactivate the cuff. It vibrated in protest but refused to yield.

Chopper growled resentfully. _"Buh-brr-waah-burr?"_

"No one is going to chop off Ezra's hand!"

_"Wurf-wa-da-wun!"_

"It's not about prosthetics! Look, will you stop talking and just deactivate it already?"

The astromech's response was negative. Kanan's shoulders slumped. "We didn't come all this way just to have you tied back down."

"Looks like the only way to get it off is find the source of activation," said Sabine.

Ezra looked crestfallen. "That means you'll have to come back with me."

"Where?"

"To where I've been working all this time."


	4. Chapter 4

_The Jewel Garden, early morning on Iolanthe_

As relieved as Ezra was with his friends nearby, he was well-aware of the consequences when they faced Tamar. He briefly filled everyone in as they made their way stealthily back to the Jewel Garden, eyes always screening for stormtroopers.

Sabine looked up in the building in bewilderment. "This is where you've been working?" Ezra could do little but nod in confirmation.

"C'mon, Ezra. Let's go meet your 'boss'," said Kanan. Ezra took a deep breath and opened the double doors. He and his crew walked inside. The maintenance droid instantly rolled up to Chopper and delivered a string of curious bleeps and blurts. Chopper growled back and the maintenance droid squealed out of the room.

Looking up and forward, Ezra was not at all surprised to see the three Twi'leks and Hogarth wide awake and starring back at him.

Tamar was leaning against a table, her arms crossed over her chest and one finger tapping her arm. Her expression was ominous. When she finally spoke her voice was tight and frosty.

"I cannot begin to tell you how much trouble you're in, young man."

Kanan's hand fell protectively on Ezra's shoulder. He stepped forward and looked Tamar in the face. "If he has caused any problems then we will take full responsibility for his actions," said the Jedi.

Tamar eyed Kanan. "And you are?"

"Kanan Jarrus, ma'am."

"You're his master?"

"We're his family."

Ezra instantly looked at Kanan and then at Sabine and Chopper for comfort. Despite the tension crackling in the air, their presence reassured him.

Tamar sized Kanan up and down and then scrutinized Sabine and Chopper. "I fail to see the family resemblance. Do you have authorized documentation?" she demanded.

"No," the Jedi confessed. "But we remain responsible for him."

Miri approached Tamar and rested a hand upon her elbow. "Tamar, I believe he's telling the truth."

Nava gasped and clutched at her chest. "Kay, is this true? Are they your family?"

"His name is Ezra!" Sabine insisted.

"Ezra." Tamar spoke his name aloud thoughtfully.

He nodded and also stepped forward. "Ezra Bridger."

Miri looked thoughtful. "Ezra Bridger," she murmured. Her eyes lit up with fear. "I heard a senator mention that name. You...you can't be one of those rebel criminals, can you?"

She turned to Tamar in horror. "The Imperials will find out we've been harboring a fugitive! We'll all be arrested!"

"Miri, nobody has to know," Ezra tried to soothe her. "The sooner I'm out of here, the less you'll be in danger."

"Yeah? What if those 'rebels' try to tip the blame onto us for their actions?" demanded Hogarth.

"We would _never_ do that!" Sabine shouted. Chopper burbled defiantly in agreement.

Kanan raised both hands in the air, "Everyone calm down," he ordered.

"Speak for yourself," replied Tamar. "This is my club and these are my employers. Their safety is my priority."

"Besides, how do we know you're not really slavers with tricks up your sleeves?" demanded Hogarth. "You could be brainwashing Kay to think he's this 'Ezra Bridger' right now."

"Hogarth, I'm _not_ brainwashed!" Ezra insisted.

"And I'm still not satisfied," Tamar went on. "Ezra or Kay, our busboy has been a big help until this evening. I expect to be fully compensated."

Sabine's eyes flashed furiously. "Excuse me? You forced him to serve Imperials in your silly little 'nightclub' and you expect to get paid?!"

Her blasters materialized in the air, both guns aimed at Tamar's head. "How about we leave with Ezra and I don't shoot those lekku off your head?"

Tamar's nostrils flared. "It would be the last thing you do, little girl."

"Wanna bet?"

_Click_! Hogarth had produced an astro-rifle that was aimed at Sabine's stomach. "Sure do, missy."

"Everyone, stop it!" Ezra begged. "There's no need to fight!" He could feel the tension reaching its peak and with the first rays of sunlight filtering through the windows, recognized the sign that time was running out.

"Kay-I mean, Ezra, do you really want to leave us?" Nava asked. "I know life can be challenging here but we'd do anything to make you happy," she added.

He glanced at her sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, Nava. But I can't stay on Iolanthe."

"He's right, Tamar," Miri agreed. "We can't keep Ezra against his will."

"He's under contract."

"Then tell me how much you need to break the contract," Kanan said.

Tamar looked at him shrewdly. "What do you have to offer?"

"Five thousand now plus another ten once we've cleared Iolanthe."

She shook her head. "Five thousand is barely one thousand on Iolanthe"

"We have a ship, a VCX-100 fully modified…."

"We're not going anywhere."

Ezra saw Sabine and Hogarth raise their weapons higher while Chopper brandished a sparking wand. He held his breath and looked at Kanan, silently pleading for help.

Kanan's right hand reached behind his back. Instantly, Hogarth turned the rifle's aim to him. Kanan raised his left palm in response. "It's okay, I just want to show you something."

Slowly, he removed the longer half of his lightsaber that he always kept in two pieces for concealment. It appeared as a harmless metal tube in his hands. Kanan pried the lightsaber open and instantly, beams of bright blue light shot out and across the room, causing everyone else to shield their eyes.

Ezra was mortified. "Kanan, no! You can't!" he protested.

Kanan made no response to Ezra. He walked forward and extended the kyber crystal to Tamar. "This gem will sell for no less than thirty thousand on the black market. Or you can negotiate with the Imperial officers. No high-ranking officer would pay less than double that amount."

Tamar reached out and carefully picked up the kyber crystal between manicured fingers. It was no bigger than her fingernail but the luminous radiance coming off of it was brilliant, making her skin turn the color of sea-foam. Her eyes shined with fascination at the jewel in her hand. Then she closed her fingers around it and the blue light faded from the room.

"It is satisfactory," she finally declared in a calm voice. Tamar tapped in a few keys on her datapad. The cuff on Ezra's wrist gave a soft vibration and then snapped open with a crisp _CLICK_.

Sabine instantly put away her blasters and grabbed Ezra by the arm. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

For the briefest moment Ezra saw the faces of his former co-workers. Nava looked terribly sad and Hogarth appeared wistful. Miri was surprisingly calm as she gave him a nod of understanding.

As for Tamar, well, Ezra couldn't do anything more than glare in her direction. If he had the time he'd hurl her a string of insults at her but for now could only seethe in his anger.

His master's kyber crystal. Ezra would _never_ forgive Tamar for this.

"Ezra, it's time."

Ezra nodded to Kanan and slipped out the doors of the Jewel Garden and onto Iolanthe's waking streets. Never once did he look back.

The club remained quiet and aloof for several moments. Then soft sniffles filled the room.

Tamar sighed and heaved her shoulders. "Miri, do you need to go back to bed?"

"I'm fine," she said. It was Nava who was crying and had just thrown her arms around Miri's neck.

"I'm going to miiiiis hiiiim!" she bawled aloud. The pale blue Twi'lek put her arms around Nava and hugged her tenderly.

A-A-A

_Ghost ship, Gensu Rebellion Outpost_

"Look at you!" Zeb roared with laughter. He had greeted Ezra by lifting the boy several feet up into the air and then grinding his furry fist into Ezra's head. "Got tired of living in the lap of luxury down on Iolanthe, didntcha kid? I'll bet those bucketheads got so sick of you that they shipped you back to us."

"I wasn't exactly slacking off," Ezra protested.

The Lasat continued to joke with Ezra for a few minutes until Hera had Ezra swept into the medical bay for a full evaluation. Fortunately, Ezra was found to be in good condition expect for slight weight loss from enduring the Draxo virus, and he was already gaining that back quickly.

Hera and Kanan reminded Ezra that if he had been harmed in any way he shouldn't be ashamed to tell them. The worst was the bruise on his neck from Dodge but all Ezra could do was let that fade. The memory still strung in his mind and he wondered if that would ever fade away as well.

Kanan wanted to get Ezra back onto schedule right away but yielded when Hera explained the vital information that Ezra now had from his experience on Iolanthe. He and Hera were brought to Commander Sato and together, the three of them sat down for a debriefing.

The meeting lasted for many hours. Ezra's experience at the Jewel Garden had been an unlikely yet ideal position to eavesdrop on Imperial officers without detection. Ezra took his time describing the Imperial names, ranks, facial descriptions, and their passions and interests to Commander Sato.

The information on Cato and Boller's prototype bombs was especially helpful for future Imperial threats. Ezra admitted that he had hoped to bring the two bombs he stole back to the Rebellion but Commander Sato assured him that adequate information had been provided.

"We could not have gotten a better report with an undercover agent on Iolanthe," insisted the Commander. "Your information is invaluable to the Rebellion and I am intrigued about Lin's involvement with the Mandalorian conflicts."

"Oh, he could go on for hours about his military victories. Especially if he had a bottle of amber brandy nearby!" Ezra laughed.

Hera had been listening quietly, only putting in a word or two when necessary, but now she whirled on Ezra. "And how did you happen to know so much about amber brandy?" she demanded.

Ezra looked surprised. "Like I said, it was his favorite drink. And now I know its best served at room temperature with just a hint of ice in the—"

"Do you mean to tell me that you were _drinking_ at that club?!" Hera suddenly shouted.

"What? No!" Ezra waved his hands frantically. "Hera, I swear it! I just served drinks, that's all!"

Hera glared. "Ezra Bridger, if I _ever_ find out that you consumed so much as a drop of alcohol while on Iolanthe..."

"I didn't!"

"Does Kanan know about this?"

"Hera, please!"

Commander Sato chuckled softly between them. "I think we have concluded today's investigation. Captain Syndulla, you have my permission to return Ezra Brider to the Ghost."

A-A-A

Once Ezra was back home, Hera's heart was content and free. She was glad to see him returned all in one piece and safe among his friends again.

Yet Hera was aware that Ezra was struggling to adjust back to the crew's lifestyle.

The two noticeable things were his sleeping and work habits. Ezra kept waking up later in the day and was groggy or cranky for a few hours. Hera cheerily kept him up until Ezra could get back on a proper rotation cycle. She didn't mind him cleaning random parts of the Ghost and in fact, was thrilled that he didn't need to be asked to scour the windows or wash grease off the engine rotations. Chopper certainly enjoyed benefiting from Ezra's labors; the feisty astromech's carbon scoring was gone for a full week.

But in those spurts of energy, Ezra worked so hard and with such a look of such frustration on his face that Hera was concerned. She wondered if a part of him had been left on Iolanthe and if so, could they get it back?

She confided in Kanan who listened patiently to her concerns. "It isn't just me, is it?" asked Hera. "I know Ezra's fate could have been a lot worse..."

"But it still happened," Kanan agreed. "He had to be quick on his feet and think fast while on Iolanthe. It can't be easy adapting to a crazy lifestyle."

"Especially if you're used to our kind of crazy," Hera smiled faintly. She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "I still can't believe three Twi'leks were running a club on Iolanthe. They must be insane!"

"Some people might say the same about us," Kanan suggested.

Hera tapped her foot against the ground twice before going on. "Ezra said that Tamar hit him," she said at last.

"Where? When?"

Hera told Kanan what Ezra had told her.

"And?"

"That's it. At least that's what Ezra said." Hera waited for the Jedi's response.

"Ezra knows that he can come to us if something is wrong," Kanan said slowly. "And I trust him to tell us if he was abused."

"A smack on the seat of his pants doesn't sound threatening. But can't tell you how much it bothers me. I'll admit, I don't think it was his best choice to steal an Imperial's badge at that moment but…" Hera struggled to find the words.

"It's because you're the one who wants to be responsible for him," Kanan suggested. "And not some strangers."

She gave him a knowing smile. "Right, love. Ezra's stuck with us through good and bad."

"You have a point. I think we need to clear the air."

A-A-A

Kanan found Ezra alone in his bunkroom. Ezra was sitting upright and frantically polishing his lightsaber with a rag. Seeing Kanan, he jumped down off the bunk and extended the lightsaber to him. "You can use mine to practice," he offered.

"Thanks. But right now we need to talk." Kanan motioned for Ezra to sit down on the lower bunk. Kanan pulled up a crate and took a seat.

Ezra rested his hands on his kneecaps. "What's going on?"

"I know you told use about your experience on Iolanthe. What I want to know is how you are feeling about it."

"I'm fine," Ezra insisted quickly. The tinge of irritation in his voice, however, was detected by his mentor. Kanan's steady gaze remained focused on Ezra until he threw up his hands in frustration.

"All right, I'm angry. Okay? I'm furious!"

"Why?"

"Because of Tamar. And because of you," Ezra blurted out. "I know I shouldn't let my emotions control me but Kanan, a kyber crystal represents _everything_ important to a Jedi. And this was _your_ kyber crystal! How could you give away something so valuable?"

Kanan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "A kyber crystal is a helpful item to a Jedi but hardly one I would consider most important. In itself it is nothing more than a shiny rock. There are thousands, if not millions of them, spread across the galaxy."

He reached out with one hand and rested it upon Ezra's shoulder.

"A crystal like that can be replaced. But Ezra, you cannot." He sighed deeply. "We were frantic about finding you. When we discovered that you were alive on Iolanthe, everyone agreed that we'd do anything to get you back. _Anything_."

His green eyes glowed with empathy as he gently squeezed Ezra's shoulder. The sincerity of his master's words slowly sank into Ezra. For a brief moment, light flickered in his eyes.

"I understand," Ezra said at last. "And I promise to help you get a new kyber crystal."

"Perhaps," said Kanan. "But what about Tamar?"

Ezra glowered. "At first I thought she was just like use because of how much she despised the Empire. But that woman's got a heart of ice. She deserves to stay on Iolanthe."

"Hmmm." Kanan leaned back and stroked his beard in thought. "She hides it well but I could sense her fear. From what I saw, Tamar lives in a world of contradictions and has to be smart and cautious to survive. And as much as I don't approve of her using you in a nightclub, I'm grateful that she rescued you from that slave ring."

"Even if she did it for her own reasons?" asked Ezra. Kanan nodded. "But why work so hard to give Tamar benefit of the doubt?"

"I give it because it gives me peace of mind. The Empire couldn't care less for the safety of Twi'leks and the slave rings exploit them. Tamar could have become just as cruel as them. But somehow, she's risen above those base emotions. If it means entertaining some Imperials and giving her the satisfaction of running a business, it doesn't hurt us at all.

"Besides," Kanan added. "Ever hour they're drinking wine and listening to music is one less hour less they're raging war on the Rebellion."

"I never thought about it that way," Ezra said quietly. "Though I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust Tamar."

"You don't have to, Ezra," Kanan assured him. "But hating Tamar won't hurt her. It'll just wound you further. If you can't make peace with her then at least learn to make peace with yourself. Do you think you can do that?"

Ezra looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes I can."

"Good."

"Is there anything else?" Ezra asked.

"I'm curious why you called yourself 'Kay' on Iolanthe."

"It just seemed like the right thing to do," Ezra admitted. "I could have gotten into a lot more trouble than usual and I didn't have you to guide me with the Force. But being 'Kay' made me feel like you were there helping me. It...it made things better."

Ezra looked to Kanan for approval. "Is it okay that I used your name?"

A thousand words fell silent upon the Jedi's lips as his student gazed up at him, seeking approval. Kanan had been ashamed of himself for turning away from the Force, and the galaxy's cry for help, when they needed him the most. For years he hardly considered himself a Jedi; a master was an impossible dream.

But if Ezra Bridger needed a teacher, then a teacher he would be. Kanan sorely wished he had the resources of his youth to help Ezra; the expansive library, the variety of temples, programs, droids, and training rooms could all have been useful.

But now all they had was a master, and apprentice, and the Force. And in the end, perhaps that was all that they required.

Teaching was no longer a burden on his shoulders. On the contrary, Kanan was liberated to be in the presence of the Force again. Having someone to understand it, to connect with it, and to push yourself above and beyond your limits, had become a blessing and a light shining back into his life.

He was not the man he once was. But if he continued alongside his padawan's journey, perhaps he could become a man who exceeded his own expectations. Kanan knew that he owed his very best to the generations of Jedi before him and especially that of his master.

Pride glowed within Kanan's chest as he looked at Ezra. "It's more than okay, Ezra. I'm honored by your choice." He rose to his feet. "Speaking of the Force, it's time we continued your training."

A full smile broke out on Ezra's face. "Really? Great!" He leaped to his feet. "What will we practice today?"

"It's time that you learned Form Three," Kanan announced. "This combat technique can teach you to deflect against multiple oncoming attackers."

"All at once?" Ezra asked. "Is that really possible?"

"Yes," Kanan said. "It is possible."

"How do you know?"

A small smile of past memories graced the Jedi's face. "Because I used it alongside my master during the Clone Wars."

Ezra spoke the name of Kanan's teacher aloud. "Depa Billaba."

Kanan rarely spoke of her and Ezra imagined how her sacrifice must have left its mark on Kanan; she had laid down her life to protect her student. When he did recall Depa Billaba, Kanan had described her as a brilliant warrior, brave leader, and an understanding and compassionate teacher. His words strengthened Ezra's own resolve to honor Master Billaba's legacy and follow in her footsteps.

Relief had swept through Ezra's heart and now it felt lighter than it had all week as he followed Kanan out of the room.

A-A-A

_Iolanthe, six weeks later_

Tamar was wearing one of her favorite dresses, a frock of bright yellow lace that brought out the depth of her blue skin. People said it made her look like a tropical flower. Her only jewelry was a black velvet choker adored with an oblong rose-gold pedant that she fiddled with from time to time. Standing on the balcony with one slender arm resting upon the banister, she was a pretty sight for all to see.

Tamar took a sip of wine and savored the cool tart taste on her tongue. No, still missing something. She suspected even drinking an entire gallon of Mist would not ease her restlessness.

From the moment he had called himself "Kay", Tamar knew that the young man she had brought into her club was bluffing. But Tamar suspected that anything important would eventually come out. What mattered was keeping a close eye on Kay to make sure he kept his sticky fingers to himself. He had learned his lesson well after his first night on the job.

Tamar had not anticipated the busboy to turn out to be so insightful or loyal. It was _his_ fault that they had all gotten attached to him. Why, she had nearly followed Hogarth's suggestion about that tutor!

Ezra Bridger. A helper, an ally, and a bridge-maker. The name suited him well. She would have to bury it within the deepest part of her mind; the Empire would have her head if they found out she had been harboring a criminal.

Tamar had worried that Miri would take the full brunt of the loss but she seemed to be handling herself better than they all expected. Hogarth went on silently going about his business. It was Nava who dealt with his absence the most of all. She had been the youngest of their group until Ezra had come along and instantly became thrilled with him as if he was a new puppy to play with.

Oh well. They had managed adequately before Ezra Brider came along. They'd be fine after he left.

And yet there was no denying that it had been a lot nicer with him around, even fun at times.

Tamar smiled to herself when she remembered every time she would rattle off statistics and he would stare at her in surprise. Other people were annoyed and jealous of her entrepreneur skills. Ezra had recognized and accepted it. And if he had been irritated with her, well, it had everything to do with her personality and nothing to do with her blue skin and lekku.

And now that he was gone, Ezra could detest her for being a Twi'lek all he wanted to.

"A credit for your thoughts."

Tamar blinked to clear her head. Commander Lin was standing next to her and smiling away. "It's not like you to be so distracted, Tamar."

She shook her head and forced herself to smile back. "Forgive me, Commander. I've had a lot on my mind lately."

"Nothing to do with that cargo malfunction, I hope. Don't worry, my dear. Iolanthe's gravitational pull is completely safe," he assured her.

This time Tamar's smile flitted genuinely across her face. "I know," she said at last.

If there had been a silver lining in the last several weeks, it was the news that a cargo ship had exploded upon attempting exit of Iolanthe's atmosphere. The cause of the accident was unknown until the Holonet described it as a "minor malfunction of the thermal engine". Only behind the closed doors of the Jewel Garden did Hogarth confirm the rumors that the cargo ship was registered to contacts with Iolanthe's black market.

"But they couldn't have detonated so quickly unless the ship heated up alarmingly fast," he added.

"Hmmm," Tamar had responded.

The Holonet was more enlightening about a potential culprit. Douglas "Dodge" Axle was found unconscious near the Academy with two prototype weapons stuffed into his pockets. Despite his protests and denials, being found out on Iolanthe past curfew was enough to arouse the Empire's suspicions. Dodge was never seen in public again.

_I wondered why Miri was humming so nicely all week,_ thought Tamar.

The clicking sounds of boots and armor broke through her thoughts.

"Tamar Ily'an!" demanded a crisp robotic voice.

Tamar turned around to see four stormtroopers in her face, blasters aimed at her chest.

"Under Section 87 of the Imperial Security Regulations for Iolanthe, you are under arrest!"

Tamar hardly heard the gasps of guests around her. She was vaguely aware that Miri's zephyr-harp had stopped playing but everything else had already faded into the background. All she could hear was a faint humming in her ears.

She swallowed to clear her throat. "May I ask what I am accused of?"

"Under Section 87 of the Imperial Security Regulation-"

"-I know that but what are the charges?" she interrupted shakily.

"Sabotage, breach of Imperial security, and harboring fugitives of the Empire."

The silence of the guests held for a few seconds of suspended alarm. No one spoke. Then suddenly, one by one, their tongues loosened and whispers began swirling around Tamar.

"Did you ever..."

"How did she manage to do that?"

"...never should have trusted a Twi'lek..."

"Always did have a suspicious look in her eye..."

She hadn't shifted an inch from her spot but their barbs and glares were prickling her skin like a thousand tiny arrows. Her guests of no more than a minute ago had instantly become her accusers. A brief glance to her right revealed Sergeant Cato, who smirked at Tamar from across the rim of his glass.

Tamar's gaze finally went to Commander Lin. He had already taken a step backwards. "Tamar, how could you betray the Empire?" he demanded.

Words tried to form in Tamar's mouth and she parted her lips to speak. But at that moment, seeing the look of disappointment on his face, hearing the gossip hissing through the air, Tamar realized that there was no point in trying to defend herself.

Her fate had already been sealed. Tamar closed her lips in defeat.

Commander Lin sighed. "I am very disappointed in you, my dear." Without another word, he turned on heel and walked away from her.

_It's over just like that,_ thought Tamar. _Four years in my club and it was never more than a business transaction between us._

"My dear," he had called her. _My ass._

A stormtrooper ruthlessly grabbed Tamar by the arm. "Come with us."

"May I at least get my coat?" she asked. The stormtrooper's blank white helmet turned to Commander Lin who shrugged carelessly. The grip on Tamar's arm was released.

Forcing herself to keep her spine straight and her head tilted up, Tamar carefully walked to the front of the club and put on her coat. If this was to be her last moment under this roof, she wanted to at least leave with her dignity. Let the Imperials know that they hadn't shredded every bit of her pride even as her heart was slowly turning into lead.

_Don't act so surprised_ , she chided herself. _You knew sooner or later that this day would come._

_Yes but I didn't expect it to come so soon,_ she added. _It was nice while it lasted._

"Wait!" A clear sweet voice broke though Tamar's bleakness. Nava and Miri rushed towards her, capes wrapped around their shoulders. Hogarth was by her side in a moment and bundled up in his thickest wool coat.

"No!" Tamar hissed to Hogarth. "You need to stay and look after the girls."

"Like kriff I am," he muttered. "You're not doing this alone."

To the stormtroopers he said loudly, "We all confess to being co-conspirators along with Tamar Ily'an. We willingly surrender to the Empire."

"Fine. Take them all," ordered the first stormtrooper. Hands cuffed in front of them, the four prisoners were marched out of the Jewel Garden and into the back of an open-roof transporter. A soft light rain was falling upon Iolanthe, the drops so tiny that it felt like mist falling upon Tamar's face. The air was cool and damp; Tamar was sure Hogarth would be boiling inside of his coat.

She was grateful for the wetness on her skin. It kept her distracted. The stormtroopers forced the prisoners into a circle in the center of the vehicle while they took positions on the outside. The transporter buzzed to life and raced down the street, buildings and streets whizzing past Tamar's eyes.

Her club was gone. Her protection was gone. The lovely clothes, the thick carpets, the hand-carved music boxes from Alderaan...

A cool dry hand wrapped around Tamar's fingers and squeezed it gently. She could feel Miri's eyes shining even as the lights were fading away behind them.

"We have each other," Miri said. "We're going to be all right."

"But for how long?" asked Tamar.

"No talking!" shouted a stormtrooper.

They had reached the limits of the 18th district. There were less buildings and the darkness was closing in around them. Tamar squinted as the transporter slowly came to a halt. She could just make out two stormtroopers getting out and walking several paces ahead.

"What's going on?" demanded one of them.

"We have orders to transport these prisoners to Outpost 22," came the monotone voice of another stormtrooper.

"Under who's orders?" said the first one.

"Agent Kallus of the Imperial Security Bureau. He demands that they be taken to maximum security at once."

"Where's your backup?"

"In the hanger bay. The cadet is here to be seen, not heard." The monotone voice instantly barked, "Shoulders back, cadet!"

For a moment, all Tamar could hear and see was the rain. Then the first stormtrooper spoke again.

"I was not aware of this update. What's your report number?"

"Aw, kiff..."

Blaster shots suddenly flared up like lightning, bursts of energy so quick that Tamar covered her face with her hands. Between the flashes of light she could see, or at least it looked like, one stormtrooper attacking another!

A figure ran to the vehicle and immediately fired two blasts, stunning the last of the stormtroopers guarding the prisoners. Tamar brought her hand down long enough to realize it was indeed a cadet stormtrooper with his helmet shield down. He may have been half her size but he was the one with the weapon in his hands. Her heart felt suspended in her chest, waiting for him to strike again.

Instead he leaped towards Tamar and aimed the blaster at her wrists. A ray of heat flitted dangerously close to Tamar's skin but the shackles snapped apart from the blast. She rubbed her hands together gratefully while he freed everyone else. The cadet waved a hand frantically in the air. "Come on! Follow me!" The prisoners were too stunned to speak until Hogarth finally found his voice.

"Can we trust you?"

Before anyone could answer, Miri yanked Tamar to her feet. "Go! Go!" she cried. "Follow him!" Unwilling to stay a moment longer in the transporter, Tamar followed Miri and everyone else, who was on the heels of the cadet.

They dashed down the narrow street until it opened up into a docking bay. A tiny Correllian shuttle was the only ship on the landing pad. Tamar heard the whizzing sounds of a droid and saw a red dome whirling away on top of the shuttle. The back door popped open and the cadet motioned for them to go inside.

_A trap? A rescue?_ Stars, Tamar had just lost everything. She could now risk anything.

Everyone sprinted as fast as they could and leaped into the shuttle. Shouts and shots landed at their heels and Tamar looked behind her to see a single stormtrooper being chased by other soldiers. He was dodging their blasts while aiming over his shoulder to fire back in response. The shuttle had already rumbled to life and had risen a good ten feet off the ground when he jumped dangerously up into the air and landed inside the shuttle. The soldier rolled twice along the floor before coming to a full stop.

The door swung shut behind him and the shuttle accelerated itself up into Iolanthe's atmosphere.

"Good work, Chopper! Now get us out of here!"

The droid burbled a positive response. Iolanthe's deep blue skyline quickly faded into black and stars formed outside the windows. The stormtrooper and the cadet both sat down on a bench facing Tamar and her crew. Everyone starred at each other, adrenaline still pumping through their veins from the instant rush of danger that had just swept them up and off the heart of the Empire.

"I don't know if we should thank you or beg for mercy," Tamar said at last.

"You can thank us when we reach Kaller," said the stormtrooper. He bent over and pulled off his helmet, revealing the teasing green eyes of Kanan Jarrus.

The cadet did the same and Ezra Bridger's tousled dark hair fell around his grinning face.

Nava gasped in delight, Hogarth grinned and Miri smiled. Tamar struggled to find the right words to say.

"Scoundrels," she finally blurted out.

A-A-A

_Imperial Province of Kaller, Outer Rim_

"Where exactly is Kaller anyway?" asked Miri.

"In the armpit of the Outer Rim," Kanan answered with a smirk.

Tamar rolled her eyes. "How reassuring."

"Absolutely. After your career on Iolanthe, Kaller is the last place anyone will look for you."

One eyebrow lifted up in suspicion. "And your contact?"

"Let's just say he's developed an aching back from constant bowing to the Empire. We can trust him."

The Phantom touched down on a plateau overlooking its central city. Ezra was glad to leave the ship; the Phantom was not intended to carry six people. It was colder on Kaller and the stars burned fierce and bright over their heads. Miri and Nava drew their cloaks around themselves tighter.

A single figure was waiting for them; a green-skined Kalleran with a pointed chin and twin antennas on top of his head. Kanan approached first and bowed to him. "Governor Key."

"Master Jarrus," he responded. The Kalleran's shrewd face examined the newcomers. "I am Gamut Key, provincial governor of Kaller. Consider yourselves under my protection." The Twi'leks curtsied and Hogarth bowed respectfully.

Tamar stepped forward. "My colleagues and I are fortunate to have escaped with our lives," she said. "I hope we will not have to rely on your excellency any more than necessary."

"Let's start with new lodgings for your four," responded Gamut Key. "Unfortunately, life here does not offer Iolanthe's glamour or sophistication. Your transition to Kaller may be difficult."

"I can fix things," Hogarth offered.

"And I can sew," added Miri.

Gamut Key nodded. "That will be helpful. A pity we have such limited venues to amuse our residents."

Ezra detected a familiar tone in Tamar's voice. "Tell me, governor. What is the current rate of supply and demand for entertainment on Kaller?"

"At the moment we have much demand and little supply for them."

"I see," she murmured. "Then perhaps we may yet have some use here."

"I anticipate discussing it with you in further detail later on," Gamut Key declared.

Miri, Nava, and Hogarth followed Gamut Key off to the side but Ezra managed to get Tamar's attention.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I think I can spare some time," she answered. Tamar followed Ezra several paces across the plateau until he found a smooth rock to sit down on.

"Too bad you don't have that gem with you now, huh?" Ezra said at last.

Tamar shrugged. "I already invested it into floor paneling for the club."

"Of course you did," Ezra sighed. _Why did I even bother to ask?_ "But I've decided to follow my master's advice by giving you benefit of the doubt anyway."

"Have you?"

"Yes. Because I believe that the Empire hasn't fully destroyed your empathy," Ezra insisted. "Somewhere inside that clever businesswoman is a kind and caring person."

"Don't hold your breath," Tamar responded. "If you and your rebels do manage to topple the Empire someday then the first thing I'm going to do is open up five nightclubs and ten kaff shops."

Ezra shook his head in defeat. "You'll never change, will you Tamar?"

"Never," she echoed. "I intend to take full creative liberty with my enterprises someday. We'll have five hundred drinks on the menu and sing the silliest songs that ever came out of the old Republic."

"Sounds nice," Ezra admitted. "Can Kay the Busboy listen in from the balcony?"

"He can." Tamar smiled and added, "But Ezra Bridger will get the best seat in the house."

Tamar's hands instantly came to the back of her neck and she removed the necklace. Then she extended it out to Ezra.

"Oh, come on!" He jumped to his feet. "After that nice heartfelt talk we just had, can't you let it pass?"

"You know me well enough, Ezra. I pay all my debts." She pried open his fingers and placed the necklace in the center of his palm.

"All right. If it gives you peace of mind-"

"It does."

Ezra fingered the necklace. "Y'know, I was on Iolanthe long enough to learn about expenses. You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble had you bought a protocol droid instead of a busboy. It wouldn't have cost much more than I did."

He smirked. "Don't tell me that you fell for my great personality."

"No, that came onto me like a hailstorm."

"Then why did you do it?"

Tamar hesitated for a moment. "Because Miri told me to," she finally answered.

"What?"

Tamar folded her arms over her chest and lowered her voice. "I'm sure you know by now that Miri is a special young woman. She has a certain amount of, shall we say, 'insight'. It's been helpful to all of us."

"Insight," Ezra repeated.

"I needed to expand our staff but few people would willingly work for me," Tamar explained. "The black market was my last resort but Miri insisted I go. She said someone with hope in their eyes would be there."

She glanced up thoughtfully. "I'll admit I was skeptic. But I followed her instructions and they lead me to you. I wasn't surprised at how quickly you two got along. It must be kindred spirits."

Slowly the pieces of the past began to fit together for Ezra. Miri's deep insightful mind, her quick recovery from her meltdown, and her interest in a young man with eyes the color of hope.

"Must be," Ezra agreed softly. "You'll watch out for Miri, won't you?"

"Don't worry. If anyone tries to get close enough to manipulate her, my charming personality will drive them off."

"Ezra!" Kanan was waving at him from the shuttle. "Time to go!"

Ezra and Tamar looked at other as Kaller's chilly breeze whipped around them. Tamar stepped forward and put her arms around Ezra. For a moment the breeze was replaced by the fragrance of flowers and the warmth of her skin.

"Goodbye, Ezra Bridger. May the stars light your way." Her voice was as soft and gentle as the moment he had first heard her sing.

"Goodbye, Tamar." Ezra felt his heart give a painful tug and he added, "May the Force be with you."

She gave him one final hug just before Ezra ran back to the Phantom, waving his arm at her all the way.

Tamar watched the shuttle lift off the plateau and dissolve into Kaller's night sky. She exhaled and then walked back to the rest of her group.

"Well governor, we four refugees must now rely on the kindness of strangers to survive."

"We can open another club," Nava offered.

"Not since the Imperials confiscated my business," said Tamar. "We're flat broke."

"Not so, boss." Hogarth pulled out a pocketknife and instantly cut away at the seams in his coat. He stuck his hand inside the lining and suddenly pulled out a fistful of credits. Then he handed the knife to Nava and Miri, who eagerly cut away at their cloaks where Miri had cleverly sewn in several concealed pouches. Several rings and brooches spilled into Tamar's hands.

Tamar could only stare at her friends in disbelief.

"Look at that! The boss finally has nothing to say," Hogarth laughed heartily.

"Not so destitute after all," Gamut Key spoke aloud. "But then again, it appears you never were to begin with. Come, I will help you make the most of your possessions and we will see about establishing a business in town."

Tamar glanced once back up at the sky. A whisper of thanks and a prayer of gratitude followed the Phantom's journey back home.

A-A-A

Back in the Ghost, Chopper frittered away while Ezra toyed with the necklace. "I don't think its Sabine's type and Hera doesn't wear jewelry. What should I do with it?"

"Keep it. It'll be your memento of Iolanthe," suggested Kanan.

Ezra rolled his eyes. "Right. Lots of good times in the heart of the Empire."

"You made some new friends, learned Imperial secrets, and thwarted a weapons plot. You should be proud of yourself, Ezra."

"I wish I was. Or at least I wish Tamar would join the rebellion. She could be a big help to us."

"Maybe someday she will."

"When?" asked Ezra.

"When she's ready."

Ezra got off the bench and walked towards Kanan at the front of the Phantom. "Kanan, do you really think she will?"

"I hope so. You may not see it Ezra but I think you made a definite impression on her." Kanan kept his eyes on the navigation while he spoke.

"The Empire thinks it can bring peace to the galaxy by forcing people to comply with each other. But you can't make a perfect world because there are no perfect people in it. We make mistakes, disagree, and fight along the way. But we can also forgive and ask for forgiveness. We can inspire each other to do our best."

He gave Ezra a nod of understanding. "The Force recognizes the kindness that you do for others. It's that light which gives hope to the galaxy. And someday, when you least expect it, that light that you sent out will shine back into your life as well."

As Ezra was listening he was also concentrating on the pendant in his hand. Now he held it up and watched the rose-gold glitter under the Phantom's lights.

"Kanan, do you hear that?" Ezra asked softly.

Kanan fell silent and indeed, could detect the faint but distinct humming presence of the Force. He instantly switched the Phantom onto autopilot and turned to face Ezra. The boy held up the necklace between them and the vibrancy of the Force grew stronger.

Their eyes met and Kanan nodded. "Together."

Master and apprentice closed their eyes and stretched out their hands. The necklace hovered in the air between them.

The connection was made and then a crack appeared in the center of the pendant; a hidden locket. Hinges formed and the crack widened. A tiny compartment swung open.

Ezra's eyes opened to the reveal and then glowed with joy while Kanan looked on in fascination.

The brilliant blue light of a kyber crystal filled the Phantom, illuminating itself among the stars.

END

Author's notes:

Fans will recognize Gamut Key and Kaller from the entertaining "Kanan: the Last Padawan" graphic novel series.

Thank you for reading. May the Force be with you.


End file.
